


Embers

by Littlehobbitoffandoms



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:41:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 52,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24383710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlehobbitoffandoms/pseuds/Littlehobbitoffandoms
Summary: After the Great War between the Black Elementals and the rest of the world, the last good Elementals went into their Eternal Rest. They were few of them left and they broke their bonds with the Witchers after defeating the Black ones.Years later, a crack in the ancient ice echoed through the valleys and villages until the sound reached Kaer Mohren. It was the same time a child entered Kaer Mohren to start his Witcher training.An Elemental woke the moment Geralt of Rivia survived his tests. It was Geralt's mother, a sorceress, who wanted to keep her son safe and found this the only way : she used an old magic spell to bound their powers together from the first time they would meet.It wasn't until Blaviken, Geralt and Eira met each other and the force of their powers united.
Relationships: Geralt/oc, Jaskier/OC, Yennefer/Geralt
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Prologue

Prologue

The War of the Elementals was over. The world turned silent again after weeks of thunder roaring in the sky. The ice that cracked out of pure violence went silent once again. Embers of fire finally went and left the world trembling in the aftermath. 

The scent of blood lingered around and countless bodies decorated the Old Vales. Human bodies. Used solemnly as a vessel by the Black Elementals so they could use their ultimate power against the others. 

It was a terrible War. One that would occur in many tales and songs for the hundreds of years that came after.

There were only a few left and the Black Ones were finally banished with the help of the Witchers. The white haired warriors had left their home, Kaer Mohren, to combine their powers with the Elementals who fought to safe the world. They were outnumbered. They were too few of them left. The Witchers brought up their numbers but, still, they were too weak to force them back. 

The world burned under the rage of the Black Ones. Destruction and chaos circled around every living creature, human or monster, making them try to hide away from the viciousness. 

The Sorceress's eventually came to help when they realised there wouldn't be a world left to live in if the bloodshed continued. With three powers combined, they finally found a way to defeat the Black Elementals and destroy them. This solution came with a cost. One that the Witchers were gladly to take on to safe humanity and themselves from further destruction. 

The Elementals who fought by their side were bound by magic to the Witchers. Entwining their powers, the world was saved. For this, the Elementals were forced to inhabit a human body and were locked inside their vessels. An oath was sworn that they would never kill a human. 

Ice, Earth and Water were able to kill the Fire that raged inside the Black Ones. 

It took a long time before the world settled back into some normal rhythm. The Witchers did their jobs : hunting monsters and getting coin. Yet, this time around, they had the company of an Elemental that was bound to them. They never left their side and battled evil as one. Together, they were unbeatable. 

Rumours started about some of the Elementals trying to kill humans. Or trying to use the power of Fire, which was forbidden after the War. Some Witchers even claimed they had to slay their companion after their eyes turned Black and the Elemental turned against them. 

The Bound and Oath was broken. Trust was shattered from both sides. 

The few Elementals left their vessels, most didn't survive the separation, and eventually disappeared to be forgotten. 

The strongest Power ever roaming the Earth was only heard in tales and read in the history books. 

Some Bards sung about them, some wrote poems. 

But only one fell in love with one of them...


	2. The Butcher of Blaviken

She hid in the shadows of Blaviken once the Witcher arrived. Eira had been roaming around the city for some time, not quite sure why she was here only that she had to be here. When Geralt of Rivia set foot in Blaviken, a Kikimora tied on the back of his horse, Eira stared at him from a distance. 

The magic around her trembled and tingled when the Witcher glanced over his shoulder into her direction. A black cloak hung over her head, covered most of her face from his gaze and when he averted his eyes from her and entered the Inn. She wondered if he had felt it too. 

Eira could even see the golden, sparkling cord of magic being spun from her chest. It crawled out of her, tentacles spreading around her before it made its way towards the Inn. Slowly yet steadily, it flew through the closed door. The sensation left her body warm and cold at the same time. 

This was it. The Witcher was the reason she was in Blaviken and walking around this World in the first place. In a human body that bared the scars of torture and eventually died of pneumonia. When Eira woke from the deep ice eighty years ago, the same golden thread had lingered around her. Yet, she didn't had a human form. Merely a small cloud of cold air seemed to escape the glacier she was born in. 

A young elemental. Alone in the world and she didn't know why she was there. 

Eira travelled far and wide. Her primary embodiment made it easy and Eira had let the wind take her to the four corners of the world. Wherever she passed, ice formed on the lakes and rivers, snow fell down even if it was summer or hail ruined farm houses. She was still trying to learn how to control the powers that were hidden deep inside her. Eira was born out of ice, so ice she would wield for the first years of her existence. 

Loneliness crept up on her. She tried to search for others like her but, to no avail. After decades, Eira gave up. Realisation of her being the only one of her kind, made winter come sooner and it was harsher then every year that had passed. Crops died, people famished and monsters roamed the streets and forests more then ever. 

It was in a small town by the edge of a large river, that Eira found a young woman dying in bed. The small house was lit by only one candle and the coughing came trough the thin walls. The Elemental floated by the window and saw the fragile state the human was in. Thin and sweaty covered in old sheets. An older man by her side who held her hand. 

If she was the only Elemental in the world, Eira thought to try and look human to not be alone anymore. Even if it was just to talk to someone and be heard. Eira was aware that she could easily take a body of someone healthy. Someone who was strong and alive. She thought about in the past, but never took the opportunity. 

She would notice they had families and loved ones. That they were needed. And Eira just couldn't do it. The Elemental never took a human body and decided to wait. 

But the dying girl with long, blonde hair might be perfect. She was dying, Eira was sure. She could sense the heartbeat and it was too slow. The dark circles that decorated the woman's face under her beautiful blue eyes showed the exhaustion. 

Eira had waited until the man left the house before she let herself in. Nobody could see her yet the woman had turned her head towards Eira. But the eyes saw nothing, they were already empty and her breathing shallow. The Elemental felt remorse. The girl was too young, barely twenty-five summers old, to die in such a painful manner. 

As soon as the Elemental came close, the golden silken like cords appeared and circled around both of them. There wasn't any pain involved. The process was fast and the woman died as soon as Eira took over the body.

The Elemental had hummed a sweet song while she settled into the woman's form and felt the sick girl's soul drift of. Pain free and relieved her fight was over. 

And now, Eira was in Blaviken. Watching the golden thread which made its way into the Inn and she swiftly made her way to one of the windows to glance inside. 

The Witcher was talking to a girl with short hair and a frisky grin on her face when one of the golden tentacles touched his shoulder. Eira could see the surprise on the man's face while he scanned the room with his eyes. When his gaze came to rest on hers, Eira took a quick step back. 

She couldn't hear the snarl that left his throat, but she could see it. Eira turned on her heels but wasn't fast enough. As soon as the Elemental wanted to disappear behind one of the darker corners, the Witcher was already on her tail. 

A rough hand grabbed her by the neck, turned her around and shoved her painfully against the wall. 

"Magic," the Witcher said, his voice hoarse and eyes blazed with anger. "I didn't feel you. What are you?"

He scanned her up and down while Eira grabbed him by the wrist. She tried to struggle against his hold but Geralt didn't even feel it. 

"Not a sorceress, not a druid," he continued. "Something different. Something I haven't seen before."

"Let me go," Eira broke his train of thoughts which made his eyes snap up again.

The hard chokehold the Witcher had her in, made Eira scared and she rapidly lay her hands to rest on his chest. The Witcher didn't listen and increased his hold on her which made it hard to breath. She asked one more time to let her go but, it fell on deaf ears. 

She gasped for air when Geralt had to let her go. An ice cold stream of hit him in the chest out of nowhere. Eira fell on the cobbled stones, bruising her knees in the process. 

"Fuck," Geralt muttered from the other side of the alley. 

He was rubbing his chest while he lied on his back, staring at the clouded sky above. 

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fucking fine," he rolled on his side to eventually get up. 

His two swords still tied on his back when he strode towards her. Lips tight into a silent growl and Eira stood up as fast as she could. Holding out her hand towards him and a blue light formed in her palm. 

"Keep back, Witcher," her voice stern. "I'm no sorceress. Nor am I a monster," she started and felt relieved when she noticed Geralt held his pace. 

There was doubt on his face and his gaze was locked upon the ice drops that formed in her palm. 

"Then what are you? Explain," he ordered, which made Eira snarl. 

Although the Witcher held his position, Eira didn't drop her hand where a ball of ice was fully formed and ready to hit him on the head if he kept this up. 

"An Elemental," she replied calmly. "Your Elemental."

"Rubbish," he shrugged it off, finally he looked away from her and rubbed his chest once more. "Elementals are long gone. Dead."

"Apparently not," her voice lost the calmness because the silver haired man before her started to annoy her. "Because of you, I'm alive," she spat at him. "I didn't ask to be here! Yet, here I am and then you attack me!"

"Hush," he said while he arched a brow. His features softened just a bit when he looked at her face. "I know you're not a monster. My medallion would have warned me or my senses would have been triggered."

He kept silent and Eira waited for a few more seconds before she closed her handpalm. Making the ice disappear as if it was never there. 

"I have no need for an Elemental, if that is what you are," the doubt obvious in both his features as his tone. 

The man turned away and started to make his way out of the alley. Eira shook her head and took a few steps towards the retreating Witcher. 

"Wait, you can't just leave me," she almost pleaded him. "I've been searching for a long time why I'm here in this world. I found it! I found you."

He glanced over his shoulder and found her pleading gaze that rested on him. The Witcher just shrugged before he left her alone in the shadows of the alley.


	3. Renfri

The girl with the short, curly hair had a beautiful smile ; playful and like she hid something. Her movements gracefull, the short swords she carried sharp and neat. Her laugh contagious yet didn't sound sincere. 

Eira had been following the girl named Renfri after Geralt followed a child to someone who would by his Kikimora. The Elemental had seen the witcher and Renfri talk in the Inn. When Geralt had left, the smile on Renfri's face had faded and she had asked for one more beer. 

The Elemental entered the pub quitly, her cloak hids her hair and she remains in the darker corners. She never wanted to draw attention to herself. 

From a distance, Eira saw how Renfri talked to well-armoured men. It seemed like she gave orders because one by one they left. All with a determined grin on their face. When one of them glanced into her direction, Eira swiftly casts her eyes down and started to inspect the table. 

Renfri left a bit later, after her pint was empty and Eira stood up from her seat to follow her. It was already getting dark outside when Eira followed the girl through the alleys of Blaviken. Turn right, then left and after two blocks right again. 

She stayed a safe distance, soundless on her toes but it wasn't until the last time Renfri turned a sharp left again, Eira lost her out of her sight. She glanced in the dimmed street and pinched her eyes a bit together. The alley was long and Eira straightened her posture as soon as she heard the faint footsteps from behind her. 

"Why are you following me," the voice came from behind Eira, calm and steady. 

When the Elemental turned around to face Renfri, the girl was leaning against a wall with her shoulder. Apperently, she didn't feel threatened by Eira because she didn't have any of her weapons drawn and seemed to be inspecting her fingers from her left hand. 

"Speak up. I have plans in the woods tonight," Renfri sighed. 

"I saw you with the Witcher," Eira started. "Do you know where he is?"

"The White Hair?"

"Yes," Eira answered while Renfri took a few steps into Eira's direction. 

"In the woods," she let out a short, loud laugh as if she was the only one who understood the joke. 

Eira raised a brow and nodded. 

"He won't kill Stregobor, Renfri," Eira said softly. "Neither will he kill you for Stregobor."

"You little eavesdropper," Renfri grinned, baring her white teeth. "How long have you been following me? And...," she pointed at Eira, her finger moved up and down. "Why are you hiding yourself underneath a cloak. An ugly one for that matter."

Eira's hand wiped away the cloak from her head and kept her gaze locked on Renfri. 

"I'm not hiding. I've been following you since the Inn this afternoon. I heard you talk with your men. They're your men, right? Renfri? You're the leader."

"You're good at eavesdropping," Renfri admitted with one corner of her lips tilted up in a half-grin. "I'll give you that."

They were silent for some time and Renfri her gaze seemed to lose focus. 

"As for the White Hair, I asked him to kill Stregobor," she admitted, arms crossed and leaning against the stone wall of the alley. It was getting too dark for Eira to fully see the girl. "He refused. As you said. It seems you know him well."

"I don't."

"Well, then your stalky behaviour is just creepy now, isn't it?"

"Be careful, Renfri," Eira told her before turning on her heels to find a place to rest in Blaviken. 

"Hey," Renfri called after her. "I can buy you a pint. You seem ... nice enough."

Eira glanced over her shoulder to Renfri who shrugged her shoulders. "I don't have the chance to talk to a lot of women. I'm always surrounded by unwashed brutes. I don't mind, but it's a nice chance."

The Elemental doubted and bit her bottom lip before nodding slowly. 

"Okay," the confliction lingered in her throat. "Just one."

Renfri's laughter echoed in the alley when she took Eira by the arm. It was a sudden movement which startled Eira but when she noticed the girl had no meant no harm, she let Renfri guide her to the Pub. 

"It never stays with one, sweetheart! Tell me your name, you know mine. It's only polite."

"Eira."

"Okay, Eira, we start with two pints each and then you tell me about you. And I'll tell you about me. Well, some of it, anyway."

She made Eira sit by a table in the busy Inn and came back with four pints, carrying two in each hand. 

"We'll see how far we get," Renfri grinned while she drank the first pint in one go. "I have business in the woods. Can't be too drunk for that."

Again, she laughed and Eira didn't get the joke. She wasn't supposed to understand it, she thought. 

Both women drank the pints. Eira did tell a bit about herself, but left out the Elemental part. Just that she had no family and travelled from town to town. Renfri told her she was a princess in a former life and decided it was enough talking for one night. 

The girl suddenly stood up and Eira locked eyes with her. Renfri her features serious. "Don't come to the market tomorrow, sweetheart," she murmured. "Leave Blaviken. Do yourself a favour. You don't want to be here. Find yourself a nice little town, a guy who knocks you up with a cloud of a baby and die happily."

With that she left Eira alone. 

Eira found a room with a farmer's daughter who rented out the room of her two-year old son to her not far out of Blaviken. Eira was exhausted and more then once her mind went to her meeting with Geralt that didn't quite go as she imagined. 

But Geralt wasn't the one who kept her from sleep. It was that playful smile on the beautiful face of Renfri. Yet, Eira had the feeling there was sadness and a lot of anger hidden behind that smirk. 

Eventually, sleep did come to take her and Eira had a dreamless rest. She never dreamt. That was something humans and some animals did. Not her. There wasn't any peace to be found in dreams, nor to be frightened from nightmares. 

Though, Eira had empathy, it was shallow. She didn't understand most human emotions and after all these years of observing them, Eira found out why most humans made decisions. Most of them were based on emotions ; fighting was anger, kissing was love, crying was sadness and trembling was fear. 

She hardly understood those things. The only thing she came close to understand was loniless and frustration. Eira felt uneasy when Geralt had taken her by the throat and shoved her against the wall. But there wasn't realy fear present. Why would there be? If she had chosen to do so, Eira would have been able to throw the Witcher against the wall and severily wounded him. 

Frustration because he had chosen to walk away from her while Eira had hoped her loniliness would have come to an end. It didn't. 

It wasn't the sounds of the market that woke her when the started the set. Nor the chickens or the cows present on the farm Eira was staying. It was the clash of iron against iron in the distance that made Eira jump out of bed as soon as her eyes opened. 

One hand grabbed her cloak while the other fished out the coins she owned the farmer's daighter for the room, left them on the kitchen table and ran towards the sound of the fight and the cheers of a crowd. 

And there was only one name that kept repeating in her head : Renfri.


	4. Stregobor

Eira never ran as fast in her entire existence and felt lungs burn in her chest. An old curse rolled over her tongue that the farm she stayed in was located outside Blaviken. The cheers of the crowd came closer. So did the sounds of clashing steel, which made Eira run even faster. The golden, sparkling thread that floated out of her chest, showed her the way through the small streets of Blaviken. And lead her straight to Geralt. 

It was already a bloody massacre when she arrived. Sweat drops streamed from her face into her neck, her breath ragged when Eira finally came to a halt into the horde of people who had gathered around. She had to push aside some people to make her way to the front. The iron scent of blood prickled her nose and Eira put her hand in front of her nose. 

She saw Renfri first ; short curls bouncing with every graceful move she made. The short sword swung into the direction of the Witcher, missed him by hair before Eira heard the girl growl and attack again. Renfri used the heavy cotton of her red skirt to blind Geralt. 

It didn't work. 

The Witcher quickly moved and Eira could see the strain in his features. He was merely defending himself and didn't attack Renfri. The Elemental shook her head and held her scream inside when Renfri attacked again. This time, she struck him by the shoulder and left the Witcher wounded and bleeding. 

The Elemental finally made her way to the front and could see everything from up close. Her gaze flickered to a movement in the corner of one of the alleys. With a frown between her brows, Eira saw the flash of the crossbow that came from around the corner behind Geralt. She moved fast ; a simple hand gesture and the ice that formed in the palm of her hand swung towards the bandit who wielded the weapon. 

The hard ball of icicle passed Geralt, nearly hitting him on the shoulder, to scatter on the bandit's face. He dropped the crossbow, fell on his knees and his hands went to his forehead where the ice had landed. Eira could see blood streaming down his face and he eventually went down. 

Because of the distraction, Eira had missed that Geralt and Renfri now stood face to face. Geralt with one arm up against her and the elemental held her breath. Time seemed to stop entirely and for the first time since she arrived, the marketplace was captured in silence. 

It wasn't until Renfri fell down into the Witcher's arms, Eira realised she was wounded. 

"No," she whispered to herself. A sudden gulf of sadness came over her when she recalled the night before. Renfri and herself had been laughing while drinking beers and talked about small things. Renfri didn't deserver this after what she'd been through. Yet, Eira knew by the way Geralt held the dying girl, he didn't want to kill Renfri. The strain on his features told Eira more then she needed to know and for a moment, the Elemental had to look away. She hated the uncomfortable emotions of humans that sometimes seemed to wash over her when least expected. The Elemental still had to deal with the foreign experience of them. 

"You killed her, the monster," Eira snapped her head to the left from where the voice came from. 

The aura of the man hit Eira, and she crinkled her nose while she turned herself slightly away from the man. He was a wizard and doubtless, he would feel the presence of her forces if Eira would gain his attention. But Stregobor didn't even look into her direction, but rather only focused on the Witcher who had let go of Renfri. 

Eira couldn't hear the conversation between the two, but saw Geralt pull his sword to hold back the wizard. 

"You will not touch her," she heard the rough voice and felt relieved that he wouldn't let Stregobor take Renfri's body.

But the wizard moved towards the girl and ignored the warning.

The grin on the wizard's face looked menacing. 

"Don't," the word escaped her lips in a whisper, but the Witcher was faster. 

He lifted his sword, pointed it at Stregobor and Eira took a sigh of relief. Until the first stone was thrown out of the crowd that stood around her. It hit the Witcher on the side of his head, causing him to bleed. Eira grit her teeth, snatched tomato out of the hand of a young child who stood next to her. 

A glance around her told Eira all the people were now focused on Geralt. Shouts and curses were thrown into the air and she stretched her hand palms when rain of rotten food set course towards the Witcher. 

The atmosphere that circled around her became tense and the scent of wet grass filled her nostrils. A murmur escaped her lips in a language that was so old, no one knew about it. The Earth beneath her bend to her will easily and she made a whirlwind of dust. Her gaze upon Stregobor, eyes bright blue and Eira made everything fall down mid-air. 

Tomatoes, cucumbers and apples fell down with a loud thud on the market place and now everyone's attention was on her. Even Geralt slowly turned his head to face her. Eira took a few steps towards Stregobor and the Witcher. Dust still spun around her, making her hair whip out of her cloak. 

"You won't hurt him," she spoke calmly. 

She took a protective stance before Geralt which gave him the time to get up. 

"And you won't take Renfri's body," she ordered and saw the magician raise a brow before a villainous smirk appeared on his face. 

"An Elemental," the surprise evident in his voice. 

Eira hated the way he looked at her : a price he wanted to own or maybe see if she was evil or not. Especially when Stregobor licked his lips and took a step closer towards her. By then, Geralt was able to stand up and grabbed her by the elbow. An act so sudden that the dust all around her disappeared and Eira snapped her head to face him. 

"Leave Blaviken, Witcher," Stregobor spat the last word to them. "Take your Elemental with you."

Geralt grumbled something about Eira not being his Elemental but he gently pulled her with him to find his horse. They left Blaviken together in silence, both their cloaks pulled up on their heads with nothing but the empty road before them. No doubt, both minds lingered at Renfri ; the lost princess who died because she couldn't stop...


	5. Jaskier

Geralt kept quiet most of their journey together. He didn't like to talk and kept his replies short whenever Eira did ask something. She didn't mind the silent witcher's company. Eira herself had not much to talk about. It was as if Geralt accepted the fact he was stuck with her. At least, he didn't throw her against a wall by the neck anymore. 

Or maybe it was because she defended him in Blaviken. Though, he had cursed and mumbled something about not needing her help. After the third day they travelled together in utter silence, Geralt had left her in the woods by their campfire without saying a word. Eira just stayed put with Roach, his horse, poking the fire and eventually falling asleep. 

He had left his mare, so she had no doubt he'd come back eventually. Maybe he was hunting some monster or went to the nearby village to get food. She had no idea and hardly cared. The flames of the fire kept her warm, her cloak close against her and the presence of a calm horse made her fall asleep before the sun was fully gone behind the trees. 

Eira woke up early morning, stretched her legs and got up. The chill of the early morning made, made her shiver a bit and when Eira turned around, she bumped against the Witcher. 

"Sorry," she mumbled sleepily and looked up at his serious face. 

She didn't expect a word out of him, yet when she turned around again, he cleared his throat. It got her attention and the Elemental glanced over her shoulder. 

"You walk too slow," he stated and she arched a brow. 

"Excuse me?"

"You walk too slow. It makes travelling ...too sluggish," he said again while looking away from her. 

"Sluggish," she repeated and had no idea what he was getting too. "Do you want me to walk faster?"

He growled irritated and took a step back, revealing a black horse that stood next to Roach. Eira looked at the animal and felt the corners of her lips curl up in a smile. 

"You got me a horse?"

Her bright gaze matched her wonder and Eira smiled brightly at him. 

"Does this mean I'm allowed to travel with you?"

Geralt already turned around and started filling Roach' bags. He didn't say anything, merely nodded. When Eira reached out her hand to him, he glanced at it with a frown between his brows. 

"What?"

"I want to say thank you," she said, her hand still lingered between them and the Witcher his gaze flickered between them and her face. "That's what humans do right? Give a hand and say thanks?"

He rolled his eyes and sighed before he turned to proceed with whatever it was Geralt was doing. 

"Not really," he said. "Just a thank you is enough. You don't shake hands on it. That's for a promise or a deal."

She hesitantly pulled her hand away, ashamed that she understood a habit wrong. Apologised silently before Eira made her way to her horse. 

"What's his name?"

"Hers."

She let her fingers comb the beautiful manes and inspected the saddle. She peeped from around the horse to the Witcher who was now watching her. 

"Fine. What's her name, Geralt?"

There was a faint smile on his lips, but it disappeared as soon as Eira saw it. Might as well been her imagination, she wasn't sure. 

"Bramble," Geralt replied while he jumped on Roach. "Tell me that you can ride one?"

Eira looked away from him, mimicked his moves to get on the horse and failed a few times. Feeling the impatience of the witcher, she made a nervous hand gesture. 

"Never rode one before. I'm sure it isn't too hard," she mumbled frustrated and tried again. 

She finally succeeded and Geralt didn't wait for her to follow. Eira mirrored his moves and got Bramble to move. But the mare moved too fast and before Eira was aware, she was riding next to the Witcher. Who looked at her with an amused grin plastered on his face. 

"Not too hard huh? You'll need to get her know her first. And she you."

They took the main road towards the next village because it was easier for Eira to get to know Bramble. After two hours, she was able to relax a bit more. Bramble was an easy horse, no doubt Geralt knew she never used a horse for travel before. 

It was well passed midday when they arrived in town, both hungry and Eira stiff from the ride. Everything hurt and Geralt laughed loudly when she jumped off the horse. It wasn't graceful. She was hardly able to not completely fall down and Eira glared into his direction. 

"I'm glad to amuse you, Witcher," she growled. "You hardly speak, yet you find amusement in my torment."

"That isn't torment, Eira," it was the first time he spoke her name while he made sure both horses were secured, "that's called muscle pain from not being used to riding a horse."

"Torment," she sighed painfully, rubbing her upper legs. 

They entered the Inn together, ordered something to eat and sat in silence. Geralt stared outside, lost in thought while Eira watched the humans. She tried to remember as much as the gestures they made, tried to listen to their conversations and was greatly disturbed when a bard suddenly found it necessary to sing a song. 

Eira didn't see him at first, with him being in the other corner of the Inn, but when he gracefully made his way to the centre, the bard came into view. She watched him from afar, his fingers playing the strings of the lute. The song itself wasn't that great, but the sound of the lute was beautiful. 

Apparently, the rest of the crowd didn't quite enjoy the lyrics and quickly forced the bard to stop playing. When he disappeared around the corner again, Eira took her little sketchbook out of her bag and was already forgotten about the bard when he suddenly stood before them. 

"Look at you, all broody and all," the man said, making her look up and realise he was talking to Geralt next to her. 

"Everyone seemed to have something to say about my songs, but you, not you, apparently."

"I want to drink alone," Geralt muttered and finally looked up at the bard. 

"But you're not really alone now, are you? You have this...," his gaze found Eira's and he pointed with his finger up and down, "lovely woman who keeps you company."

Eira smiled at him and stuck out her hand over the table. The gesture made Geralt roll his eyes. 

"Thank you," she said brightly and waited for the bard to take her hand. 

The man's features were confused and he hesitantly took her hand to shake it. Clearly making Eira happy when he did so. 

"You're welcome?" He asked and turned his face back to the witcher. 

"Now, let me guess," he grinned, "white hair, grumpy face, two swords ; one silver. Oh oh, I know," the bard continued and Eira her gaze flickered between the two men. "You're a witcher."

Geralt nodded once, took his pint and emptied in one tug. The bard looked back at Eira. 

"You too, then? I though only men could be Witchers?"

"I'm not a witcher," she calmly said, "I'm an ..."

"Human," Geralt spoke up. "Just a human."

"You're travelling with a human," the bard asked, as if he didn't believe him. 

Eira bit her tongue, not sure why Geralt had lied but trusted him enough to have a solid reason. 

"I'm Jaskier," he put out his hand towards Geralt, but the witcher ignored it. 

Eira quickly took the bard's hand again and shook it. Making the man look at her in total confusion again. 

"I'm Eira," she said with a bright smile. "That instrument of yours, how does it work?"

Jaskier was clearly taken aback by her question and scratched his chin. 

"My instrument? Do you... are you flirting with me?"

"What? No," she shook her head, not sure what he meant and Geralt stood up while grabbing her by the shoulder. 

"She meant your fucking lute, bard," he grumbled. "Not your dick."

"Ooohhh, yes, that instrument. Well, you just pull the strings and with any luck, there's a nice rhythm coming out of it."

Eira nodded vaguely while following Geralt towards the exit. 

"Is it true, Sir? Are you a witcher?"

A man held them back from exiting the place. Geralt tapped his foot, making Eira believe he was getting impatient. 

"Yes, why?"

"There's a devil stealing our corn, sir."

"There's no such things as devils," Geralt countered, but the man pulled out a small bag of coins. "But I'll take a look."

"I'll come too! Maybe there's a song in this adventure!"

"No, bard," Geralt said grumpily while Eira followed him to the horses. "We have no need for your company. And most definitely not for your songs."

Eira went straight to Bramble and caressed the flank of the horse. She silently hoped to get up without any troubles though the pain in her limbs was still there. Eira held her breath, counted to three and jumped up. She cheered loudly when she sat on the horse in one movement. 

Geralt and Jaskier both looked into her direction before the bard turned his attention back to the Witcher. 

"She's a bit weird, right?"

Geralt arched a brow and hummed. 

"Yes," was all he said before leading Roach out of town. 

Eira right behind him and the bard next to her.


	6. Torque, the Sylvan

The three of them travelled towards the fields. Following the instructions that one of the villagers had given them right before they left, were easy to follow. It was only a three hours travel. But for Geralt, Eira thought, it must have felt like it took forever because of the talkative Bard who had joined them. 

Jaskier tried talking to Geralt, but as soon as the bard realised he wouldn't get a response, except for the occasional growl, Jaskier turned to Eira for attention. She didn't mind. However her neck did. Because he didn't had a horse, she always needed to look down when the Bard said something. 

"Did you travel to many places," she asked him and Jaskier flashed a smile at her. 

"Well yes. I travel lots and lots," he started. "As a bard, I come in many different places. Inns to play in, castles to sing before Kings and Queens."

She was amazed and hardly heard Geralt groan in front of them. 

"So, you meet a lot of interesting people?"

"Yes," Jaskier said, still offering her a warm and sincere smile. "I have many acquaintances and some even friends. And," he grinned wildly, "lovers too. But that's another story." He wiggled his eyebrows, deserving a confused look from Eira. 

"Shut up, bard," Geralt spoke while he jumped of his horse to walk beside it. 

The road got smaller and they eventually had to leave their horses nearby a little forest. Eira walked next to Geralt while Jaskier a little bit behind. 

"You said devils don't excist," she asked the Witcher, making him look at her. "Then why are we going to see anyway."

"The coin," he replied simply and Eira nodded. 

She realised Geralt was a lot more friendly then when they first met which made her smile vaguely. To Jaskier, however, the bard had to do a double take after the Witcher had punched him in the stomach. Eira would've taken that as a sign of being unwanted company, but the Bard seemed stubborn and just followed along. 

Geralt glanced at her sideways and Eira read the silent message in his eyes. She nodded faintly, took a few steps back and went to walk next to the Bard. Eira didn't mind his talking, actually she liked it, so she might as well try to keep him busy and away from Geralt. 

To her surprise, Jaskier had a serious side to himself too. He talked about his travels in more detail and she soaked up every word that came from his lips. Nobody ever really took the time to talk to her until now. 

"And you? Tell me something about you," he suddenly asked and Eira glanced at him sideways.

"Not much to tell," she shrugged, remembering how Geralt explicitly told the bard she was human back at the Inn. "I'm just curious."

"There must be something," Jaskier locked eyes with her. "What do you like?"

Eira looked away from him, towards the back of Geralt to avoid the bard's gaze. "I don't know," she admitted. 

Jaskier opened his lips to ask something when Geralt suddenly held his pace. 

"These are the fields," the Witcher spoke, held out his hand for Eira to stop. "Let's just look around and we'll be gone again."

"Cashing the coin," Eira nodded and deserved an approved look from Geralt. 

It turned out the devil in the field was real. A Sylvan by the name of Torque attacked them by throwing stones their way. It hit their mark ; Jaskier on the head, Geralt as well and Eira had one on her shoulder. The Bard fell down while the Witcher growled and jumped on the Sylvan. 

Eira had started to conjure up the power of Ice from deep inside her, but Geralt threw her a warning look so Eira swiftly stopped. The magic inside her subdued by a simple shake from her head with her eyes closed. 

Then the world turned black. When she woke, Eira's head felt hazy and painful. A sting at the back of her head, made her blink her eyes a few times before she was able to focus again. Eira tugged her hands and moved her fingers that were apparently bound behind her back. She could feel the tough, strong ropes wrapped around them. 

"Don't tickle," Jaskier's voice came from behind her and she tried to turn her head as far as she could. 

The bard was bound against her, back against back and when Eira turned her head to her left, she noticed Geralt watching her. Blood was smeared over his cheek from the wound of the rock that the Sylvan had thrown when they were still in the field. 

"Where are we?" 

She blinked a few times. Using her face made a sharp pain travel through her skull and Eira leaned her head back against Jaskier's until the sharpness wore off. 

"Are you okay," he whispered, gently bounced against her head with his. 

"I'm fine," she muttered, "except for the 'being tied up' part."

She could hear him chuckle, felt his back going up and down and Eira felt her lips curl up faintly by the warm sound of it. 

As it turned out, there were Elves involved. Eira stared at them, never saw one before this moment and never could imagine being held captive by one. Now there were three. Torque close by. And the Elves weren't amused. One of the them broke Jaskier's lute and hit Geralt in the face a few times which made Eira cringe. 

A warning look from the Witcher towards her, made Eira bite her lip in frustration. She could easily stop them. There was enough Earth to bound to her will in the cave they were being held. A simple conjuring would be able to throw around rocks and knock them out. Yet, Geralt seemed to not want her to do that. 

She didn't speak, let the talking to Geralt but got knocked on the cheek with a full fist anyway. Eira hadn't see it coming and her head knocked back quite hard against the bard's. She hissed out of pain and felt her lip burst open. The iron taste of blood streamed into her mouth. 

"Cowards," Jaskier hissed behind her. "Leave her alone! She's just a girl."

As a reward of his resilience, Jaskier got a knock himself on the head and Eira held her head down. The elves eventually turned to Geralt, talked about how they had made a deal with the Sylvan. Torque would make the humans from the villages nearby leave vegetables and fruit as an offering to him. He would take the food to the Elves who now hid in the mountains so they wouldn't starve. The three of them now ruined that little plan for the Elves and the Sylvan. 

Eira's mind had difficulty catching up with everything that was being said. She knew the history of the Elves and the War. But when a sword was being held against the Witcher's throat, both Jaskier and herself started yelling. Her connection with the Earth underneath her was feelable in the air. Her fingers nervously caressed the sand, letting it slide through her fingers ; ready to use it to harm the attackers. Even if Geralt didn't want it, Eira wouldn't let harm come to him. 

It wasn't necessary. The king of the Elves let them go and showed them mercy. Torque came between, and Jaskier even got a new lute. Before Eira knew what happened, the three of them were on the way again towards their horses. 

Jaskier babbled against the Witcher while Eira's head was still painful and she had a hard time following the conversation. She frowned and held still next to the Witcher, her shoulder leaning against his side when Jaskier suddenly took the lute and played a tune. 

"When a humble bard, graced to ride along, with Geralt of Rivia and a lady white haired and strong,..."

"No," Geralt spoke and took a step so he stood before Eira, "Don't mention Eira."

Eira looked up at him but didn't speak. Jaskier his gaze flickered between them but lingered on the disappointed face of the Elemental a bit longer. He wasn't stupid, he knew something was going on with Eira but couldn't put his finger on it. The Bard agreed and left her out of the song that formed in his head. 

Geralt glanced at the Elemental who looked at him confused. 

"Humans can't know Elementals are still around," he said in a hurried whisper. 

"Why not?" her voice innocent and Eira saw the strain in his features return. 

"Because Elementals fucking killed half of them hundreds of years ago. That's why," he grunted and went on his way. Leaving Eira shocked.


	7. Star Night in the Northern Kingdom

Eira was staring up at the night sky, lying in the cold grass with straw playing between her lips. The silence of nature and just being herself felt like a relief washing over her. For weeks now , she had to lie to the bard of what she actually was. And it started to weigh on her. 

Eira liked Jaskier. She grew fond of his company and over-dramatic tales. Or at nights when they camped out in the wild, by the fire, he sung his songs and played his lute. Even Geralt got used to his presence. He didn't always like it, but he didn't knock the bard on the head anymore. 

The bard himself enjoyed the company of the mysterious looking young woman who was sincerely interested in his tales. She looked innocent with her big, blue eyes and white, blonde hair. And she could look at him with curiosity while Jaskier told one of his stories. 

They travelled to the outskirts of Teimera with the three of them, which took them a couple of weeks and found a lovely little Inn to stay in. And the Inn came with nice extra's for the two men, apparently. The two beautiful women who roamed around them during dinner were dressed in...almost nothing. The silky robes they wore, left nothing to the imagination. Much to the delight of Jaskier who quickly got the attention of the blonde. 

Geralt himself wasn't too impressed but left with the red-head to his chambers. He gave Eira some coin to pay for a room of her own. She had earned half of his coins because Eira helped him with some monsters on their way here. Jaskier never seemed too eager to help fight of some creatures and always stayed behind. With questions unspoken in his eyes when he saw Eira leave with the Witcher. 

Eira and Geralt fought good together. They hardly need words to know what needed to happen. He used his sword skills and some of his witcher magic, Eira let Earth bend and conjured up ice whenever needed. They fought side by side, and came out as the victors. So, coin came easy. Eira even liked the adrenaline rush of collecting the little bag of coins even though money meant nothing to her. 

Geralt had left with the red-head, Jaskier had been busy with the blonde and Eira had made herself scarce from the scenes that were waiting to happen behind closed doors. She had excused herself from the table, but the bard suddenly grabbed her wrist. 

"Don't go. I'll send her away, if you want. We were talking about the Lioness of Cintra," he said while looking up at her from his seat. 

Eira saw him wink at the girl who stood up from his lap. 

"You can come back later, lovely," he said to the girl, but Eira shook her head. 

"No, she doesn't have to leave," Eira muttered and offered them both a polite smile. 

Jaskier hadn't let go of her wrist and gently tugged at it. 

"Are you sure," he asked and Eira had pulled herself lose. 

"Yes, I'm going for a walk and then to bed," she had replied. 

And now, she was here in the field. Enjoying the silence and the cold. Teimera was in the Northern Lands and it was way colder here then where they came from. She loved it. The simple blue blouse she wore wouldn't shield a normal human from this chill, but Eira didn't even feel the slightest tingle of the coolness. 

"You've been here a while," a voice came from behind her, but Eira didn't turn around. 

The corners of her lips curled up. "I heard you approach," she told Jaskier when he sat down next to her in the grass. 

His elbows rested on his knees and he glanced at her. 

"Aren't you cold," he asked. 

"No," Eira replied and sat up next to him. Gaze still at the stars above them. "I thought you would be asleep by now with the blonde by your side."

He chuckled awkwardly and Eira saw him scratch the back of his head. 

"Nah, I didn't go to my room with her," he mumbled and lifted his gaze to watch at the same stars. 

Eira took a breath through her nose and felt a strange sense of relief wash over her. 

"That's...," she started confused. "Odd."

She had seen the bard take several women to rooms in Inns since she met him. Eira had thought tonight would be the same, but he never came out to look for her during a night. He was a solid sleeper, and sometimes a snorer. 

"Yeah, odd," Jaskier just repeated and waved the subject away. "Tell me, Eira, what are you thinking about?"

"Nothing really," she admitted and locked eyes with him. "Just staring up and enjoying the silence, I suppose."

"Care for some company?"

She nodded, a bit to quick to her liking and turned her eyes away from him. 

"Sure, I don't mind," and laid back down again in the grass. 

Jaskier mirrored her movements, laid his head on his arm and stared up. 

"Tell me something about when you were young," he asked and Eira turned to look at him. 

"Nothing to tell," she tried, but went to sit up and thought about for some minutes. 

"I used to be alone," she started and felt how Jaskier went to sit up next to her. She felt his eyes on her face, but didn't look at him. "Like, really alone. No family, no friends. I just...roamed around. Nobody to talk to or someone to talk to me. I was invisible."

She looked down, played with the gras by letting her fingers roam over it. 

"Nobody saw me. And when they finally did, they didn't care about me. Humans hardly take the time to talk to someone they don't know. It was... quiet. I just started to watch people talking to each other. Loving one another. Making friendships. I tried a few times to did the same. It didn't work."

She sighed. 

"A few times men took it the wrong way, I think. As soon as they realised I wasn't interested in a romantic adventure, they just went away again. Women, well, they just did small talk. Except for Renfri back in Blaviken, she truly talked to me. If only for one evening."

The memory of Renfri struck a cord inside her and Eira shook the thoughts off her. Glancing sideways at Jaskier who was looking at her and still listening. 

"I see you," he said calmly and smiled brightly. "And hear you."

Eira stared at him, lips parted and not knowing how to reply. She smiled shyly and looked away from him again. 

"Thank you," she whispered. 

"You're not alone anymore," the bard muttered and stared up at the sky. "I promise."

"Eira!"

The voice of the witcher carried over the fields towards them and they both jumped up Geralt was just a few feet away and stared at them. 

"We're leaving for Temeria. Get your things," the witcher pointed into the direction of a small road. "Leave the horses. Bard, I think you should sit this one out."

He didn't wait for a reply, just went on his way and disappeared out of view. Knowing that Eira would catch up with him. Eira turned to Jaskier with a grin. 

"Time for work," she said and started to make her way to the Inn. "Maybe listen to Geralt. Stay here, take care of our horses, write another beautiful song."

"I want to come," Jaskier told her firmly and Eira just nodded. 

She knew she couldn't keep the bard from following her anyway. And she quite liked the thought of having him close by.


	8. Triss Merigold

They arrived in Teimera well before sunrise. Both Jaskier and Eira were able to catch up on the witcher who had left well before them. Eira knew Geralt was holding his pace so they both were able to follow him. He didn't even look surprised or angry that the bard had joined them. 

Although the early hour, there was commotion heard on the streets and it led them to the castle. Geralt had given Eira a short introduction to Temeria and she knew that's where King Foltest must live. Castles always got her attention, there was something dreamy about them. Something that made her fantasise how it would be to live in one of them. 

Her reverie was disturbed by Geralt suddenly coming to a full stop. The Witcher silently pulled his cloak over his head and when Eira looked next to her, she noticed the bard doing the same. He flashed her a smile from underneath his burgundy coloured cape and Eira swiftly looked away. 

Her gracious fingers pulled her own cloak over her head and she followed the lead of the Witcher. Staying close to the wall, a bit away from the horde that was protesting just outside the castle's walls. They could easily hear the shouts. A bit too loud even for Eira who had to hold herself back to not cover her ears. 

The mob was angry and Jaskier murmured something about killings happening since a few years. 

"I heard the tales of the killings," he told her and Eira turned her head to him. 

His big blue eyes locked with hers and for the first time in her existence, Eira felt a slight flutter in her stomach. Which made her frown and she rubbed her fingers over her stomach. 

Jaskier ignored or hadn't seen the frown nor movement, and just continued. 

"Every full moon a beast kills someone in an outrageous manner. Bloody and ...," he noticed the look on Eira's face, one of disgust, by the way she pulled up her nose. "Well, just gore. They say it's King Foltest's sister. The Beast, I mean."

"It isn't," Geralt murmured and shifted his weight a bit. 

"How did you know where to go?"

"The red head at the Inn," the Witcher said, "she told me another Witcher took the job of killing the Beast. She said he ran off with the gold. I knew Remus, it strikes me as odd he would just take the coin and leave."

Apparently, Geralt had heard enough and revealed himself to the men. Eira and Jaskier stayed behind, following from a distance. The Witcher offered to take care of the animal for them. Even said to only take the coin after he killed it and apologised for his Witcher friend. 

Eira followed the conversation closely and thought about how to shake off the bard. Geralt had been clear about one thing : no one was to know about her origins. Not even Jaskier. 

She jumped up when his hand touched hers. It was an accident but it felt like he had burned her. A curse rolled of her lips and Jaskier silently took a step back. Eira shook her head with a laugh. Waved the incident off. 

"Sorry, I'm jumpy," she apologised. 

Jaskier just nodded, his gaze on Geralt again and didn't seem to think any of it. 

"You know, this is going to be a great song," he whispered, bending his head to whisper in her ear. 

Her eyes grew wide when Eira felt his warm breath against her skin and she chuckled nervously. 

"I have no doubt," she replied and took a very small step away from him. Not knowing what was going on, only that she suddenly started to feel ill. 

The Witcher was about to close the deal with the people when the loud groan of metal was heard through the darkness. The gates of the castle opened, lowered the bridge and revealed the King's Army. All carried heavy weaponry and Eira felt the magic inside her come to life. 

She balled her fists to keep control on it. 

"If you all leave," the man at the front spoke loudly, "I shall not charge you for treason! Vengeance will not ease your pain..."

There was some rumours in the crowd, but they eventually left slowly. A few spit on the ground before the man, who was called Ostrit, before they turned to leave. 

Ostrit then turned to face Geralt before he turned his head towards Eira and Jaskier. 

"King Foltest has no need for a Witcher," he said. 

Geralt tried again to bargain for coin and to kill the beast. But it was to no avail. With an escort of soldiers, they were all guided out of Temeria and back onto the path that lead them through the woods. 

Eira could practically feel the agitation radiating of Geralt and went to walk next to him. 

"You tried," she started. "It seems like they don't want any help."

"Hmm," he said and glanced at her. "I wanted to know what happened with Remus."

"We can track him...," she started, but suddenly felt a string of magic that pulled on her. 

Geralt must have felt it too because both of them came to a sudden stop. A movement that made Jaskier bump against her back. Eira was about to turn around, vaguely saw the silhouette of a woman behind them when everything went dark. 

Waking up was the hardest part ; the magic used to knock her out was only used by well trained sorceresses or druids. Eira's head felt heavy and painful, but she sat up immediately when her eyes shot open. 

"Stay still, your head will feel chaotic for some minutes," the soft voice of a woman floated through the dark room to meet the Elemental. "You're awake earlier then I imagined. Your bard's still snoring."

Eira stretched her fingers and balled her fists. 

"Show yourself."

"I'm here. Don't worry, I don't mean any harm."

A beautiful young woman appeared into her vision and Eira stood up. Dizzy and shaky on her legs, glanced at Jaskier who seemed sound asleep next to where she lied. 

"Where's Geralt?"

The frown on the woman's face grew while she took in Eira's appearance. 

"What are you?" 

Eira turned to face the sorceress and felt anxious because Geralt was nowhere to be seen. The golden thread they shared tugged inside her and Eira shook her head angrily. 

"Where is he, Sorceress?"

Her voice strict and demanding while Eira felt the magic Geralt and she shared urge her to find him. 

"He is fighting the Striga," the woman spoke and took a step closer to the Elemental. "You're not human," she stated. 

"Where," Eira gritted her teeth, "is he fighting the monster?! I need to know!"

She held herself back to not use her powers, but ice formed in the palms of her hands. Ready to strike when necessary. 

"At the Cathedral. The old one to the North. Not far from her," the sorceress said, her voice still calm. "I already stated I mean you no harm."

"Then watch Jaskier," Eira told her and passed her by. "Let nothing happen to him."

Eira ran out of the room, through the long corridor and outside. The moon was high in the sky, telling her she slept through the day and explained why Eira was hungry. In the distance Eira heard the loud wail of the Striga and her feet moved even faster. Cursing her slow pace because of her human body. 

The loose rocks on the path she ran on, started floating when she passed and Eira opened her hands again. The Earth trembled underneath her and a grin appeared on her lips when Eira entered the Old Cathedral. 

Geralt saw her come and grunted. He was wounded, she could see it and a growl escaped her lips. 

"Where," she asked, and Geralt gestured above him. 

Eira's gaze travelled from the witcher to the upper floor of the large room they were in. She kept her eyes above her while Eira made her way to Geralt who was still kneeled on the floor. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder and Eira could hear the light sigh that left his lips. 

To her surprise, the Witcher laid his hand on hers for a second before he grunted and stood up. 

"Eyes open," he told her, and Eira's eyes flicker to him. 

"The Sorceress bound a spell on me," she said. 

"Yes, Triss told me."

The rumbling sound came from behind them instead from above and both Eira and Geralt turned on their heels. The rocks floating around them sped up in a circling movement making both their hair play in the breeze. 

"Don't kill it, I want to safe the daughter," Geralt said. 

"Daughter?"

"Explain later," he urged when the Striga landed before them in one swift movement. 

The scream got stuck in her throat by the sight of the monster and Eira quickly moved her hands forward. Throwing all her power towards the beast that growled angrily when the bundle of rocks hit her. 

"She needs to stay out of her crypt," Geralt hurriedly spoke, his silver sword in his hand. 

The Striga was caught of guard by the rocks, clawed wildly around her to shield the non-stoping rain of stones of hitting her. 

"Leave," Geralt ordered Eira. "I will finish this."

"You're hurt!"

He grabbed her by the shoulders to make Eira face him. 

"I said go," he murmured impatiently. "Go to Triss. Wait for me."

He let go of her and turned to start running towards the crypt. 

"Geralt," she yelled and he glanced over his shoulder to her. "Stay alive, okay?"

He nodded once before disappearing into the darkness. Eira quickly made her way out of the old ruin before the Striga had time to come after her. 

Somewhere in the distance, a rooster was heard.


	9. Decisions

Chapter 8 Decisions

The relief that washed over her when the Witcher came back to the castle to tell King Foltest his daughter wasn’t a Striga no more, surprised Eira. Geralt himself had taken the time to tell her he was fine before he had entered the King’s chambers. All that time, the bard had been sound asleep. 

Until now. He stirred in his sleep at first, made a humming sound and finally opened his eyes. Eira sat beside him, staring out of the window with her chin resting in her hand palms. Jaskier rose to a sitting position and touched her shoulder to let Eira know he was awake. 

She shyly shook his hand off. Where he had touched her, her skin underneath her blouse tingled and Eira could still feel it. It made her uncomfortable yet wanted his hand there again. Jaskier had innocently touched her before like this, but Eira never felt like she did now. 

“You’re awake,” she murmured and stood up to create some distance between them. 

“It feels as if I slept for three days,” Jaskier murmured and watched her carefully. 

“You did,” Eira smiled vaguely, staring outside the small window of Triss’ chamber. 

She heard the rustling behind her, telling her that the bard stood up from the bed and Eira was sure she heard him stretch a bit. 

“Are you okay,” he suddenly asked when appearing next to her. 

Eira nodded, glanced at him and noticed those big, blue eyes looking at her in concern. 

“I’m fine,” she tried to smile, but felt the knot in her stomach returning. 

She cleared her throat, turned on her heels and walked to the door. 

“It was a Striga,” she explained. “Geralt is fine. Explaining everything to King Foltest. Maybe you can get yourself cleaned up and meet us in the courtyard?”

“Eira?” 

His voice made her hold her pace, fingers around the doorknob and Eira glanced over her shoulder. 

“You really are fine, right?”

She nodded curtly before she left the room and Jaskier. 

In the hallway, Eira leaned against the cold, stone wall with her back and took in a few, ragged breaths. She was sure she was getting ill. Getting a fever of some sorts. Which was unusual for an Elemental, but this body she was in could get sick. 

After another deep intakes of breath, Eira made her way to the throne room and met Triss. The sorceress saw her come and turned to face her. 

“I know what you are,” Triss spoke and gracefully made her way towards Eira. 

Her soft, golden heels clicked on the stone floor and the Elemental held her pace. Triss Merigold had said she meant Eira no harm, but would she still mean that now that she found out. 

“What elements,” the sorceress asked, stopping a few feet from Eira and taking in the Elemental’s appearance. 

Eira had noticed the stance of the woman, ready to strike if needed but the elemental felt this was just a waste of time. 

“No fire,” she curtly said, glanced towards the door of the Throne room which was still shut. “If that’s what you’re asking. Fire is forbidden for Elementals.”

“You speak as if there more of you,” Triss said and Eira snapped her head back into the woman’s direction. 

Her words struck a cord inside her and Eira pulled up her lip a bit to let out a soft growl. 

“There aren’t, I’ve looked.”

Triss suddenly smiled, her head tilted to the left. 

“Thank the Gods for that,” she said. “No wonder Geralt was so protective over you. You’re bound to him, aren’t you?”

Eira didn’t reply, just slightly turned her head to the door again. Maybe if she ignored the sorceress , Triss would leave. 

“You are,” Triss continues with a glint of a smile. “It’s been years and years since the last Elemental went to die into the ice. I wonder … what makes you different? You shouldn’t be alive.”

Eira sighed annoyed, crossed her arms before her chest and leaned against the cold wall with her back. 

“You’re dangerous,” Triss spoke in a hushed tone. 

“I’m not,” Eira replied. 

“And the bard doesn’t know, does he?”

This made Eira look straight into the brown eyes of the sorceress. She gritted her teeth, fingers clawed in her elbows and her reaction gave Triss the answer. 

“Oh,” Triss pouted her lips. “He’s unaware. He’s human, he can’t feel the strong powers that run through you. How will he react if he knew?”

“He won’t know,” Geralt spoke from behind Triss Merigold. “Eira wields no fire. Only ice and earth.”

“Practicing on water, actually,” Eira spoke up with a brow arched. 

Triss’ gaze flickered from Eira to the witcher who stood next to the sorceress. 

“How did King Foltest take it,” Triss asked, changing the subject from Eira to the Striga. 

Geralt glanced into the Elemental’s direction before he nodded. 

“Quite well, I think,” he murmured before he took Eira by the elbow. “My job is done here.”

“Don’t forget your lovely bard,” Triss hummed, “I will go tell him to meet you two in the yard.”

Eira held her pace which made Geralt stop too. The grunt that was heard gave away he wasn’t too pleased with the hold up. Eira was about to open her mouth when Geralt pulled her back. His golden eyes were on the sorceress. 

“I think you find it important to not tell a living soul about Eira,” he stated calmly. “She’s harmless. She can’t kill humans and she doesn’t use fire. The only thing I ever saw her kill, was an innocent rabbit for dinner. Well that and some monsters.”

“Why would I find that important? What I think is that people and sorceress’ should know there’s an Elemental on the loose. Do you even know your history, Geralt?”

He took a deep breath through his nose and locked eyes with Eira. And just for a moment, Eira saw how his jaw tensed and how his teeth gritted together. He seemed… conflicted. 

Eira felt a sudden fear inside her that maybe the Witcher thought Triss was right. And that her journey had come to an end. She knew what her ancestors did. That they killed thousands off humans, witchers, sorceress and druids. That they set fire to the world and drowned it in blood. 

Fire was off limits to Eira. She knew this. Even if she wanted too, the element would never bend to her will. It was too wild and dangerous. 

Geralt sighed and shook his head. 

“Keep your coin for the Striga,” he told Triss and Eira felt relief washing over her. “Keep your lips sealed and I won’t tell the world about your King’s daughter and his sister.”

Merigold pursed her lips together and quickly nodded once before she left them in the hallway. 

The Witcher turned to face Eira and she couldn’t help but smile at him. 

“Thank you,” she murmured while he grabbed her by the elbow again to walk towards Triss’ chamber. “For a moment I thought you were going to throw me before the wolves. As people say.”

Geralt led her to the door and shook his head. 

“The fuck would I do that for?”

Eira grinned and shook her head. Yet, she was feeling better now that she knew the Witcher wasn’t just going to leave her. 

She was feeling better, until Jaskier appeared out of the room and smiled brightly at both of them. Then the sick feeling in her stomach returned and Eira rubbed her stomach. 

“Let’s go, Bard,” Geralt said. “Or do you want to stay here to sing your songs?”

“No, no, I’m ready for our next adventure,” Jaskier said. “I was thinking off a song about the striga you defeated….”

The Witcher rolled his eyes and, with Eira right behind him, went on his way back to the Inn to fetch the horses.


	10. Water

Water

Eira lingered behind the two men the whole road towards … wherever Geralt was leading them. She hadn’t been listening at all when the Witcher had told both Jaskier and her where they would go next. Eira assumed he already found a next contract or heard about some monster roaming around. 

She was glad to see her horse again after the whole Triss and Striga thing that had happened. And the much space there was left between Triss Merigold and herself, Eira felt more and more relieved. 

“You haven’t spoken for a day,” Jaskier suddenly popped up next to her. 

He bought his own horse a while back so that he could follow them more easily. 

“And not to mention, you look flushed,” he pointed out. 

It made Eira her face heat up some more and she glanced in his direction. His gaze was locked with hers for just a few seconds, which made Eira’s throat dry. She shook her head and looked away from the bard. 

“I think I’m getting ill,” she said confused. “I don’t get ill.”

Jaskier laughed, a lovely sound in her ears and Eira couldn’t help to look at him again. His lute was strapped on his back and, for some reason, the bard looked like he had full control over his horse. He must have ridden one before because he seemed well trained. 

Not to mention that the blue of his jacket matched the clear blue of his eyes. Again, her heart throbbed in her throat and Eira practically felt how the heat travelled over her cheeks to her neck. 

“We all get sick once in a while. I had the flu a few years ago. It was horrible. Thought I was going to die and…”

“She isn’t sick,” Geralt’s voice carried to them from the front and the witcher glanced over his shoulder. “We’ll make camp here. It’s dark.”

He had spoken to Eira, but Jaskier jumped off his horse too. Even from a distance, the elemental could see the eyeroll of Geralt. 

“Bard, when are you going your own way,” he grumbled while throwing down his bag on the soft grass. 

Jaskier shrugged. “I have a performance soon. Will travel to the South for it. I will be gone for a few months.” He glanced into Eira’s direction for just a second and she locked eyes with him. 

“Good,” Geralt muttered. 

The knot that formed in Eira’s stomach before, was harder this time. And much more uncomfortable. She visibly shifted from one foot to another while rubbing the flank of her horse. 

“You’re leaving,” she asked when Jaskier came to help Eira with her bag. “When?”

The bard shrugged and shook his head slowly. 

“It’s no big deal. Maybe in a week or so. I’ve got plenty of time,” he muttered and his gaze kept flickering between the horse and Eira. 

“How long will you be gone?”

Jaskier bit his bottom lip and decided it was better to just look away from her to focus on the bags. 

“A few months. Maybe three,” he finally spoke and for some reason Eira felt the earth shift underneath her. 

“A few months,” she repeated and Jaskier turned to face her. 

“Do you want me to stay,” he asked and Eira mustered up a smile while her insides seemed all in pain all at the same time. 

“No, no,” she quickly said, “of course, you’re a bard. That is your work and … you should go.”

She took a deep breath, clearly feeling uncomfortable and way too warm all of a sudden. When Geralt suddenly appeared next to her, Eira felt his warm hand on her shoulder. 

“There’s a stream East from here,” he said calmly. “Get water for the food?”

Eira turned gaze towards the witcher and for the first time since she started travelling with him, there was a faint smile around his lips. A nod was given towards him and Eira grabbed a small bucket that they used for water. She swiftly made herself scarce towards the East, through the forest and found the little stream Geralt talked about. 

It was there that she sat herself down, feet in the water and leaning against a tree. Letting the silence of nature surround her and Eira dug her fingers into the earth underneath her while closing her eyes. 

A sense of serenity came over her before the turmoil in her head returned. Her eyes snapped open and she hardly realised her fingers were clawing the grass. Why was it bothering her so much that Jaskier was leaving? Or even worse, why did she feel even more sick now he told her he would be gone so long?

The questions flew around in her mind while her gaze was on the calm water. The more Eira clawed into the earth, the more uneasy she became. And the calm water slowly changed. First it was just minor ; gentle waves came where the water was first flat and calm. 

It was when she became so frustrated and confused within that body that she inhabited that Eira wished she could just leave her vessel and disappear. And that point, a stream of water suddenly burst out of the surface, swiveled around before hitting the grass a bit further. 

Her eyes grew and Eira jumped up, the water just missing her. 

“Try to move it to your will,” the voice of Geralt made her glance at him. 

Eira didn’t hear him come and wondered how long he was standing there, leaning against the tree. His eyes gentle towards her and he nodded with his chin to the stream. 

“Just try it, you don’t own the water yet. It’s the element that you can bend using your emotions.”

Eira looked at him confused and shook her head. 

“I don’t know how to use emotions. I...I didn’t know I had them,” she confessed and stared at the calm water before her. 

“You do have them. You aren’t feeling ill, Eira,” Geralt told her and put his heavy hand on her shoulder. 

She closed her eyes under his touch and breathed out. 

“I am. I feel unwell. My stomach … my heart sometimes seems to skip a beat.”

A dry laugh came from the Witcher making her glance at him. 

“You have feelings for the bard,” he said while crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know why, he’s a nuisance.”

“I don’t,” she tried and looked at him with a frown between her brows. “I really don’t. I am just...ill. Maybe the flu. Like Jaskier said.”

Geralt lifted up his brow and grinned. 

“Sure,” he said, the sound of his voice gave away he didn’t believe her. 

Which frustrated her even more. Eira balled her fists and turned to fully face him. 

“I’m an elemental! He doesn’t even know that,” she said loudly. “I don’t do love. Or hate. Or anything in between.”

Geralt his gaze travelled from her to something over Eira’s shoulder and his smile grew faintly. 

“Eira,” he said and nodded his chin towards the water. “You’re making the water dance.”

She quickly turned on her heels, her long hair playing with the gentle wind while she did. 

The water bowed and rose in strings. To rise and fall down again, playful and chaotic. She carefully lifted her hand, wiggled her fingers and the water moved to her will. Eira was in wonder by the sight. The sunlight played with the water, making it colourful and her mouth was agape. 

“I am controlling it,” she said out of breath. “I can use the three elements. I can bend them.”

“I’m proud of you,” Geralt spoke which brought her back to reality. 

She turned, let the water fall again and looked up at him. He was standing close to her, watching her with his dark, yellow eyes. 

“You are?”

He nodded once, face serious. 

“I am,” he admitted and turned around. “Now get water for the food , like I asked.”

She huffed. 

“You didn’t ask. You commanded,” she said but Geralt was gone already.


	11. The Bard

10\. The Bard

Jaskier POV

She was so silent… something Jaskier wasn’t used of Eira. She normally talked to him during their journey together. Not like Geralt, who made a sport out of of how much he could ignore the Bard. Not that it bothered Jaskier that Geralt did that. He already felt that the Witcher had warmed up to him since they started travelling together. In his own ‘Witcher-like’-way. 

However, Eira wasn’t like Geralt. Ever since they first met, Eira was always curious about Jaskier’s travels and stories. Seemed to love his songs and the sound that he could make on the lute. Her laughter that echoed through the forests while walking, always made him smile awkwardly and Jaskier had to look away more than once when he noticed how beautiful her smile was. 

But something shifted since they made a stop in Teimeria. Her face looked flushed more often and Eira closed down on him. She just stopped talking to him or search his company. And when she did say something, Eira stuttered and told him she wasn’t feeling well. 

And Jaskier hated it. He loathed the fact that Eira seemed to be avoiding him. He missed her presence and laughter. Her questions and sincere interest in his life. And he missed the few, gentle touched they shared even though the bard knew they were unintentional. 

He just wanted to get shit load drunk and forget about all of it. And that opportunity came when they arrived in a small village. The bard didn’t say a thing and left the two others to...whatever they were planning on doing. He told himself he didn’t care. 

Yet, seven pints of ale later, Jaskier pouted and knew he actually did care. He sat alone at a table thinking. Although the alcohol made it a bit hard to think. 

“You look like you could use some company,” a female’s voice made Jaskier snap out of his reverie. 

He looked up from his pint to meet the beautiful gaze of a brunette who stood before him. Clearly, she wasn’t a prostitute because she had too much clothes on. 

“I could,” he said with faint grin. 

But then he noticed the light blue of her eyes and his smile dropped. A small shake of the head was given. “But I want to drink alone.”

“Oh, someone broke your heart, eh?”

“No,” he replied and looked up again. “No, we are not dating or anything.”

The brunette arched a brow and sat herself down, a pint of ale of her own was set on the table. 

“Oh dear,” she murmured and bend over the table to look at him with compassion. “Tell me. I’m all ears.”

Jaskier scoffed. 

“Why?”

The woman shrugged. 

“I own this bloody bar, dear,” she spoke and gestured to look around himself. “There aren’t much strangers passing by this little shit hole. And when they do, I see my chance to hear something else then how the cows in the field are fucking.”

Jaskier sat up straight. She certainly had the language of sailor, but he nodded and ordered two pints with the waitress. 

He told about Eira, the young woman he met months ago and how they became friends. Until suddenly, they weren’t. And he felt relieved that he was able to finally just ramble to someone who was really listening. He couldn’t say this to Geralt. 

Well he could, but even though the Witcher pretended he didn’t care about anything, Jaskier was sure Geralt cared about Eira. He was protective over her and always kept Eira close by. Sometimes, Jaskier had the feeling they hid something from him. 

But then, Eira seemed to innocent to lie to him. 

He had no idea that he was silent after he told the woman, whose name was Isabelle apparently, everything he had to say. 

“A friend?”

She spoke up after a heavy silence while Jaskier took another big gulp from his ale. He nodded while drinking, making him spill some on his chin. Isabelle shook her head and laughed ; a loud and sharp sound in his ears that made Jaskier want to cover up his ears. 

“She’s no friend,” she snapped him back to reality when Isabelle bend over the table towards him again. Giving Jaskier a full look into her cleavage, that he only noticed now. “You’re in love with her, idiot. And she with you. She’s avoiding you because of that.”

Now it was his turn to laugh and Jaskier shook his head while doing so. 

“No,” he said when he came by again, “trust me, she isn't. She’s been telling me she’s been feeling ill. Last time I checked, that isn’t really a love feeling huh.”

His words came out slurred because of the amount of ale he had. 

“Look, sweety,” Isabel spoke and took one of his hands in hers. “You’re an idiot. When I fell in love with my last four husbands, I felt sick in my stomach and thought I would die of nerves every time I was near them. Most of us like that feeling, maybe your girl hasn’t been in love yet.”

“Four?” 

That was really all that stuck with him in that moment. That and her warm hand on his. And that gorgeous, pompous cleavage before him where his gaze always flickered too. Jaskier noticed that Isabelle was fully aware by that lope-side grin around her lips. 

“Yeah, four,” she replied and nodded with her chin to the stairs. “Divorced all of them though. Well, kind of. The last one died. That being said, dear, I can make you forget everything for one night. Whatcha think, huh?”

Jaskier let his gaze follow Isabelle while she got up and walked towards the stairs. He wouldn’t mind forgetting everything for a little while. The bard knew he was a bit drunk, but not too much that he couldn’t think straight. 

Isabelle was beautiful. Older than him, no doubt by the lines by her eyes and on her hands. Maybe he could learn something from her. Besides, Jaskier would be leaving soon to play his songs in other provinces. There was nothing to lose.

Before Jaskier was well aware, he was following her upstairs, his gaze on her behind that swayed with every step that Isabelle took. The layered, red skirt left little to the imagination. 

When he arrived at the door Isabelle disappeared in, Jaskier glanced down from the open stairs to the Inn and locked eyes with Eira. She stood in the middle of the tavern, holding onto something that his brain was too slow to register, looking up at him. 

Jaskier kept her gaze and then his brain seemed to come to its sense. Eira was holding his lute that he must have forgotten on his horse. Seeing it was dark out, she probably came to find him. 

“Shit,” he said when the realisation hit him that Eira had seen him with Isabelle. 

She swiftly put the lute down at the bar, told the waiter something that Jaskier couldn’t hear and disappeared out of the front door. 

“Sweety, are you coming?”

Isabelle’s voice floated through the door and Jaskier felt conflicted. For the first time in his life, he left the beautiful woman who waited for him, stormed of the stairs (and almost fell because of the light headedness), grabbed his lute by the bar and rushed out of the door into the cold night. 

“Eira!”

He looked around him and saw nothing but empty streets before him. The bard swiveled around a few times to see if he would notice a tuft of gossamer hair somewhere, but found nothing. 

‘Maybe your girl hasn’t been in love yet,’ the sentence of Isabelle floated in his mind over and over again. He had ignored it then, distracted by the fact she got married four times. 

And Jaskier suddenly felt his stomach tighten and his heartbeat speed up when he saw Eira reappear from a small, cobbled street on his right. That was the moment the Bard knew Isabelle had been right.


	12. Fear

11\. Fear

(Back to Eira’s POV)

She had found Jaskier’s lute still in the bag of his horse and Eira remembered him telling her once that the instrument couldn’t stand the cold. The bridge would bow and the strings wouldn’t sound right anymore. It would cost him coin to let it get fixed. 

Eira found it weird the bard had forgotten his beloved lute, but grabbed it to bring it to him. She wouldn’t want him to lose his lute, not like this. She went to the local pub, the only one in the small village, thinking that was the only place he could be. 

And he was. 

Eira had entered the warm pub, the hearth in the farthest corner warming up her skin in an instant. She hated being warm, much more prefered the cold but when her gaze travelled up the stairs, she saw a beautiful woman walking up. Followed by a grinning Jaskier. 

The pain in her stomach returned, but this time much worse than ever before and Eira tightened her grip around the lute. He must have heard her, or maybe seen her, because Jaskier turned his head to face her when he arrived at the top of the stairs. Not following the woman in to the room she disappeared in. 

And Eira felt stupid. 

With a quick turn, she handed the lute to the bartender, telling him to give it to the bard who was upstairs when he was done with whatever he was doing and left the warm Pub. 

She was already on her way to Geralt, a thousand chaotic thoughts in her head, when Eira heard his voice. 

She hesitated to go back to face him. But something tugged on her. Something Eira wasn’t known with and the image of Jaskier following that woman upstairs, clearly checking her out, made her heart ache. She stood still in one of the small streets, in the dark, conflicted when Eira heard him call her name again. 

Eira had missed his company. And whatever this pain in her stomach was, it felt unbearable to her in this moment. So much so that she felt tears stinging behind her eyes. 

“I’m here,” she muttered while revealing herself by coming out of the dark alley.

Jaskier turned to face her, relief all over his face and shook his head. 

“Eira, I need to know,” he said. “I need to know what’s wrong. You’re ignoring me since some time now. What did I do wrong?”

She shook her head while he came closer. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she started and took a deep breath when Jaskier took his hand in hers. “You...you never do something wrong,” she laughed curtly, staring at their entwined hands and fingers. 

The shiver that went through her felt electric where Jaskier touched her. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she admitted, gaze still down at her hands. “I feel ill. I feel … I don’t know what I feel.”

Only then Eira dared to lock eyes with him. Jaskier looked down at her, eyes soft and gentle when he nodded. 

“I miss you,” she blurted out before the bard could speak up. “I miss you, so much. Your lute, it can’t handle the cold so I wanted to bring it to you. Then I saw you with that woman going upstairs. I felt a pain in my stomach, so hard, I …,” she stopped talking suddenly. 

Jaskier did something so unexpected to Eira that she took a step away from him. His lips touched hers, gentle and slow, with his eyes closed. Her eyes widened and Eira took the step away from him. But she regretted that she did. 

Her throat dry and the bard just waited while he looked at her, not sure what she was going to do or react. 

Eira bit her bottom lip and swiftly took a step forward to him again. Closing the distance and standing a bit on her toes so her lips could touch his. 

The kiss was sweet and slow while Jaskier pulled her close against her. His lips exploring hers and Eira felt his warmth when her hands circled around the back of his neck. She had her eyes closed, just like him and the magic inside her hummed happily. 

She hated warmth, yet his felt comfortable. 

When Jaskier pulled back, Eira opened her eyes to look up at him. The smile on his face made him beautiful and it felt like her heart sung inside her chest. The pain gone, soothed by his touch and Jaskier pressed a kiss on her forehead. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” Eira murmured and the bard pulled her close against him again. 

“I’m not exactly a professional, either,” he laughed, the sound warm against her body. “We’ll figure it out.”

Eira nodded and bit her lip. 

“I’m … scared,” Eira admitted. All of this was foreign for her.

“Fear is normal, Eira,” Jaskier assured her. 

“You’re leaving,” she remembered, the sadness coloured her voice. 

“I have to,” Jaskier said, still holding her into an embrace. Her head rested against his chest, and Eira felt the soft thudding of his heart. “I already agreed.”

She nodded silently, insecurity played up in her minds. What if he forgot about her? 

Jaskier must have felt the shift, the way her arms came a bit tighter around his torso or how her breath suddenly seemed to hitch. He gently pushed her a bit of him so Eira could face him. 

“I’ll come back,” he grinned. “I promise. I mean, Geralt would miss me so hard that he won’t be fun to be around.”

The laugh that escaped her was loud and sincere. 

“Sure,” she replied and nodded. 

“As long as you come back,” Eira said softly and his fingers played in her hair. 

“Next time, if you ever feel uncomfortable or ill, or anything, talk to me,” Jaskier told her, his face serious while he admired how her hair fell on her shoulders. It was so soft that he could play with it forever. 

Eira nodded once as a reply before she pulled him a bit towards her. Their lips touched again, meeting each other for a kiss, soft and passionate while Jaskier pulled her against him again. 

They parted ways for the night, Eira would lie somewhere enjoying the cold and the starry sky while Jaskier bumped into Geralt on his way to find himself a room. A room alone, for that matter. All the time with a large grin on his face. 

“Bard,” Geralt’s voice reached his ears and Jaskier turned to face the witcher. “I don’t have to tell you that if you ever hurt her, I’ll rip your throat out? That would ease the pain on my ears of your singing voice.”

Jaskier looked at him and shook his head nervously. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he mumbled and saw Geralt straighten himself up. 

“I mean it, Jaskier,” and the Bard looked at Geralt again. 

The Witcher’s features were serious and Jaskier licked his lips. 

“I won’t,” the Bard said again and saw Geralt nod in the dark. 

“Good,” the witcher grunted. 

“You care about her, don’t you? I thought Witcher’s had no emotions,” Jaskier said and crossed his arms before his chest because of the night cold. 

“We do,” Geralt said matter of factly, “we just like to shut them off. Makes us think straight without distractions.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Jaskier pointed out. 

Geralt locked eyes with the bard. 

“None of your fucking business, Bard,” he said before leaving Jaskier on his own.


	13. Cintra

12\. Cintra

The Bard left two days after they shared their first kiss. Many followed after, together with stealing gentle touches and laughter. Eira talked again, a lot. Asked him questions that Jaskier loved to answer and both of them finally felt free. 

Geralt was irritated, that much was sure. He grumbled and cursed everytime Eira or Jaskier sat close together or stared at each other as if there was no one else in the world. And the Witcher was relieved when the bard finally took his belongings and left. 

Not without promising Eira to come back to her and kiss her one last time. The Elemental still felt something in her stomach, but this time, the sick feeling was replaced by euphoria. Everytime Jaskier looked at her or touched her, Eira felt her heart flutter in her chest like a wild butterfly. 

A feeling she never wanted to lose again. 

The months that passed, Eira came to know what it was like to miss someone so badly it hurt. Even though, both Geralt and her hunted monsters together, collected a lot of coin and he even taught her to play Gwent, Eira felt like something was missing because the bard wasn’t around. 

“Stop your moping,” Geralt spoke up one evening. “He’ll be back.”

“I know,” she said and glanced at him. 

Eira sat beside him, poking the fire with one hand and playing with ice in the other. Something that kept her mind busy and away from Jaskier. 

“But what if he meets a girl. You know, a human one, and…”

“As far as he’s concerned, you’re human,” Geralt countered, took the stick from her and poked the fire a bit harder. “Don’t think about it too much. He’s an idiot, but not that much that he wouldn’t come back to you.”

Eira arched a brow and grinned. 

“You threatened him, didn’t you?”

“Be more specific, I threatened him more then once.”

She smiled widely before leaning back against a tree. 

“Where we going next?”

“Cintra,” he stated and looked away from her. “I got...business there. Got a letter from Jaskier to meet him there.”

She shot up straight. 

“You got a letter?!”

“Yes, he says I owe him a favour blablabla, wants me to join him to a banquet held by Queen Calanthe.”

She heard nothing what he just told her. 

“You got a letter? From Jaskier?”

Geralt turned his head to face her with a serious look on his face. 

“Are you deaf?”

“I…,” she looked away from him, “I never got a letter from him.”

“Well, maybe you don’t owe him a favour.”

“Or maybe, he didn’t want…”

“Eira, stop it. It’s fucking annoying. You won’t come to Cintra, you have no invitation. I will help Jaskier out with whatever it is and then pick you up along the way.”

She was speechless. And heartbroken. And a slight hint of anger went through her. 

“You can’t just dump me along the road like an unwanted pup,” she said, eyes blazing into the Witcher’s direction. 

Geralt grumbled something she couldn’t understand. 

“I’m not dumping you,” he spoke and poked the fire a bit harder. “You’re going to be bored. You’re not human, Eira. Do I have to keep reminding you every other day?”

She didn’t want to have this conversation. Not now, not ever. Instead of starting a fight with Geralt, that Eira knew would end up in weeks of silence again, the elemental got up, brushed her dress off and walked into the woods to calm down. 

She stayed there, all night. The witcher didn’t came to look for her. They both knew when one was still close enough and they would both sense if the other was in danger. When the sun broke through the trees, shedding its warm light onto Eira’s sleepy face, she made her way back to their camp. 

Eira half expected Geralt to be gone. That he already left for Cintra, but he wasn’t. 

“Good morning,” she mumbled, taking her bags and saddling Bramble. “I’ll just … ride in the woods until I see you again.”

The witcher sighed, touched her shoulder to get her attention and shook his head slowly when looking at Eira. 

“Eira, you can come,” he said and Eira locked eyes with him. He rolled his eyes and let her go again. “You’re my friend,” he almost looked pained when telling her this. “Maybe we can be bored together. Besides, you get to see Jaskier.”

Eira conjured up a sincere smile and did something the Witcher didn’t expect, nor was he sure he liked it. Her arms flew around his neck and Eira hugged him tightly. 

“Thank you,” she murmured and felt how the witcher hesitantly hugged her back. 

“You’ll need an evening dress,” was all he said when letting her go. “Let’s go.”

She never wore an evening dress before and Eira had no idea what one should like, except that it's supposed to be long. Geralt left her with some tailors as soon as they reached Cintra, told her to meet him tonight at the castle while he went to find Jaskier. 

He had grinned and patted her shoulder when Eira shyly admitted she had no idea what to choose. 

“Tell the tailor that its for the royal court. He’ll know what to do,” he had said before he left her to her own devices. 

Eira told the tailor exactly what Geralt had said and stepped out the shop right on time to meet the Witcher for the banquet. A smile played across her lips when the tailor had said that Geralt of Rivia made sure a carriage would await her. So, she didn’t need to walk all the way to the castle in a new dress and shoes.

The dress was beautiful. When the tailor had altered it to her size, Eira couldn’t stop looking at the fine, light blue silk that draped beautifully around her. It reached the floor, but with the small heels she wouldn’t trip over it. The white lace around her hips and shoulders accented her curves. 

When she arrived at court, the sound of light piano music reached her ears and Eira looked around as soon as she stepped out in the open. She wasn’t the only one arriving at court. There were many stepping out of carriages, all dressed up and having someone accompanying them. 

Eira looked around the crowd, a bit lost of what to do when someone suddenly circled his arm around hers. 

“I’m here,” Geralt mumbled and looked at her with a smile. “Perfect,” he said while looking at the dress. 

Eira clamped herself against him as if he was her only support in the world right now. They were miles away of hunting and killing monsters. This was a world she didn’t know. The world of monarchy. 

It was only when Geralt let her go for a few seconds to tell the guard who he was, that Eira noticed that he himself was wearing something different than his armor. 

“You look great,” she exclaimed, looking at the witcher’s hair being tied up in a neat leather bound. 

He growled lowly in his chest when Geralt took her by the arm again. 

“I hate it,” he said while he guided her into the castle. “But we can hate it together.”

The laugh that escaped her was loud and drew attention of the others around her. They looked at Eira as if she did something unholy and her mouth quickly closed. 

Geralt chuckled next to her and shook his head. “Don’t mind them. Try to have fun tonight, Eira. But just, don’t start a war or something by using your powers.”


	14. Banquets, Queens and Lions

13

The castle of Cintra was large, but beautiful ; it had many halls and small corridors. Now, there were guards everywhere, so that the visitors of the ball weren’t able to go somewhere they weren’t allowed. 

Her heels ticked on the stone floor, her dress ruffled and Geralt made sure he didn’t walk too fast so Eira could keep up. Her arm encircled around his, and Eira let her eyes roam over the large ceilings and the paintings of former royalty. 

“It’s...so large,” she muttered and Geralt nodded. 

“Kings and Queen are all the same,” he said while he guided her into the next long corridor. “They want to show of how much gold they have.”

When they reached the middle of the corridor, the music became much louder. The gentle piano tunes made her smile and Eira got excited to finally reach the main hall. 

It was already quite crowded, people talking to each other and Eira let her gaze roam over the decorated hall. Candles were lit, their shadows playfully flickered on the stone walls. The sigils were hanging out in large tapestries under the windows and the tables were decorated in the golden colour that matched the armour of the Lioness of Cintra. 

Eira was caught back by the beauty, almost as if she walked into a fairytale and came back to her senses when Geralt gently let go of her arm. 

“Geralt,” a whispered voice came from in front of them. 

Both Eira and the wither turned slightly to look at Jaskier who came towards them. His eyes big of surprise when he noticed Eira and he scratched his hair. 

“You brought her,” he murmured and didn’t directly look at her, which made the Elemental frown. “Can I talk to you for a moment, Geralt?”

“Speak,” the witcher grumbled, “Why am I here?”

“Well, maybe we can talk about this more private…,” the bard started and Eira looked at him. 

He was well-dressed ; golden rims decorated his simple gray outfit, the lute he held was polished and shiny. No doubt in her mind that Jaskier was here to perform. 

“Cut the bullshit, bard,” Geralt grumbled impatiently. 

“Eh, fine,” he said awkwardly and came a bit closer. “You see, Geralt, I have to sing a few songs here. Entertain.”

His eyes flickered nervously from Geralt to Eira and back again. The bard coughed to clear his throat. “But I need some protection. I … might have slept with a few wives of some men that are present here.”

Geralt rolled his eyes while Eira stared at Jaskier and the red of shame that coloured his cheeks. 

“You want Geralt to protect you because …” Eira started, but didn’t finish. 

She simply shook her head, waved her hands and took the opportunity to grab the first glass of sparkling wine that came her way. 

“Fine,” Geralt spoke and got side tracked by the druid of the court who recognised the Witcher. 

Eira downed the glass of sparkling alcohol in one go and coughed when she put the beautiful glass down again. 

“You look beautiful,” Jaskier spoke and she was suddenly aware of his closeness. 

“Thank you,” her curt reply came and the bard scratched the back of his head again. 

“Eira,” he started and she held up a hand towards him. 

Anger flared through her. 

“You didn’t write. Well, you did, just towards Geralt. You didn’t want me to come because you fucked married women? What did you do all those months? Did I even cross your mind?”

Jaskier’s gaze went down towards the floor and he suddenly found his shoes interesting. 

“You were all I thought about,” he suddenly spoke. “I just didn’t want you to come because I didn’t want you to hear how I was.”

She could hear the truth in his voice and was about to speak up when a beautiful female bard showed up behind Jaskier. 

“Are you ready, little fox?”

Her sweet voice made Jaskier’ head snap up and glance over his shoulder to the woman. 

“Little fox?” Eira asked and turned her glance to Jaskier again, eyes wide with surprise. 

“This is…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eira swiveled around on her heels and made her way towards the Witcher who was talking to the Druid. 

“Ah, so this is our little lady,” the druid spoke and looked at Eira with a faint smile. It took effort to curl his lips up, Eira could see it.

“I’m not that little. I’m fairly normal sized,” she countered back. 

“I know what you are, little one,” the druid said, no humour in his voice but not hostile either. 

Eira arched a brow, much how the Witcher would do when he heard something interesting, or ridiculous, it really depended on the situation. 

“I’m not here to cause a commotion, druid,” she said and bowed her head slightly out of respect. “I promise you I am only here to…”

“Keep your breath, girl,” he spoke, “I can feel your power radiating off of you. Yet, I trust Geralt of Rivia. When he spoke of you, it is with admiration and respect.”

Eira couldn’t help the smile that formed on her lips and felt the slight tinge of pride rush over her. 

“Thank you, druid,” another bow of her head and Eira was about to open her lips to speak up again, but was suddenly pushed aside. 

“The Lioness of Cintra!”

Geralt gently took her by the elbow and lead her to the side of the hall. They stood in the shadows, watching how Calanthe made her way into the feast. Her golden coloured armour shone in the candle light and her dark eyes fierce. Hair a mess of a recent fight she’d been into and Eira glanced up at Geralt. 

He didn’t look back at her, yet bowed his head a bit towards her. 

“Queen Calanthe goes to battle herself. Defeated quite the number of enemies and is as strong as a lion. Or so they say.”

Eira nodded, felt Geralt’s arm brush hers before he snapped his head to the left. 

“Be right back,” he grumbled and left Eira’s side. 

Her gaze followed the witcher for a while, until he reached Jaskier and a big man who seemed to threaten the bard. Eira stood up a bit straighter, wanted to make her way towards the bard too but a young man suddenly blocked her way. 

“My Lady, may I be so bold to tell you how beautiful you are? I cannot remember seeing you at court before. Please, tell me your name.”

Eira looked at the strong build man before her and blinked her eyes a few times. 

“Eh,” she stuttered and felt his dark, brown eyes on her. Waiting for an answer. “Thank you,” Eira smiled awkwardly, bowed her head because she thought it was the correct thing to do. “My name is Eira.”

“Eira from where,” he asked with a bright smile and Eira swiftly grabbed a glass from the waiter who happened to pass by. 

“Just Eira,” she smiled and searched for a way out. 

“She’s not to be courted,” the Witcher spoke from behind the man. 

The young bloke turned to face Geralt, smiled nervously and locked eyes with Eira again. 

“You’re betrothed,” he bowed his head in shame. “Apologies, Lady Eira. I did not know.”

Eira took a breath of relief when the man had left to court another lady and Geralt grinned at her. 

“The eyes of men dart from the princess to you. She’s the one who will chose a man today, but I think the men around here wouldn’t mind to be turned down by her so they could make their way towards you.”

Eira frowned. 

“What?”

Geralt sighed and then laughed dryly. 

“I’m trying to say that you look beautiful. Now, be silent and enjoy. Queen Calanthe has taken her seat on the throne. The show will start.”


	15. The hedgehog

The Hedgehog

Eira saw that the Queen had changed her armour for a beautiful gown. And for some reason, Calanthe looked quite uncomfortable in it. Eira suddenly wondered if the Queen liked to smile because she looked too serious for a feast. The young, blonde woman who sat next to Calanthe just looked majorly unhappy and for a moment, Eira felt for sorry for her. 

The Elemental sat down at the far right in a corner. She could see most of the Hall here and was quite happy that no one seemed to bother her or come to talk to her. Sometimes, the druid Mousesack came to ask her if she was okay or needed anything. 

Eira just smiled widely at him and shook her head. Told him she was just happy to be present here and to observe everyone. Mousesack had laughed and nodded. 

“I understand, it can be quite amusing to watch them interact,” he had said, before giving her a pat on the shoulder and left. 

Geralt had left her side to stand on the other side, one eye always on the Bard to protect him. Because that’s why the Witcher was here : to see Jaskier wouldn’t get a ball cut off by one of the Lords present. 

Eira’s own gaze sometimes flickered to Jaskier, especially when he started playing his lute and his voice echoed through the hall. He played and sang happy tunes, together with a small band of bards. 

Jaskier sometimes looked into her direction, a smile on his face that faltered as soon as he noticed the Elemental looked away. Yet, her gaze always followed the bard, and noticed the few women present laughing and waving their hands at him. 

The sting of jealousy was gone by now. Eira noticed the bard hardly payed attention to them. Instead, Jaskier seemed to focus on the fact to give everyone a great night. And he was succeeding too. 

Some started to dance on his songs, others swayed on their seats and when Eira smiled brightly and sincere, Jaskier locked eyes with her. She laughed when he started a song about a Fishmonger's Daughter and clapped her hands when the Bard made his way towards her, lute in hand and singing all the way. 

Eira felt her cheeks heat up when Jaskier was close, the rhythmic tunes of his lute and the sound of his voice made her realise how much she truly missed him. And his stories. Jaskier seemed happier when Eira slowly started to clap her hands and winked at her playfully before turning around again. 

Much to her, and everyone’s surprise, Geralt was invited to take a seat next to Calanthe. After he had been brutally honest that his life wasn’t like in the songs they heard. And the Witcher took another pint of ale in his hand before he rolled his eyes. He took the seat next to the Queen anyway, knowing better than to upset Calanthe in her own home. 

A few men came to ask her to dance, all that she politely declined with a gentle smile and a bow of her head. Eira had no idea how to dance and stared at the dancing couples for some time. A few times, she felt the Witcher’s eyes on her and looked into his direction. He offered her a distant smile while talking to the Queen and Eira saw he wasn’t amused by the conversation. 

The evening seemed to go by peacefully, until the suitors started to come in and present themselves. The Queen's daughter her face dropped even more. Something that Eira didn’t think was possible. Where the atmosphere was relaxed at first, the Elemental felt the tension rise around her. 

Young men were boasting about fights they got into at one point in their lives, others were nervous and hoped that Princess Pavetta would choose one of them, and the rest were just getting drunk on ale and red wine. 

Her gaze found Jaskier in the crowd, who had the same worried look on his face when he turned to lock eyes with her. He had stopped playing when the suitors started to present themselves and slowly made his way towards her. He kept himself nearby the wall, trying to go unnoticed that he had left his spot. 

He didn’t make it to Eira and the Elemental herself felt restless while she stood up. A stranger, cloaked and hidden face, made his way towards the Queen and Pavetta. There was something off with the knight who hid his face and in the corner of her eyes, she felt Geralt’s eyes on her. The witcher shifted in his seat and Eira felt their bond shiver slightly. Telling her to be on guard. 

The face of Pavetta suddenly changed ; the sad look disappeared and made way for a faint smile when the stranger started talking. He asked for her hand, but Queen Calanthe wouldn’t give it unless he showed his face. 

In Eira’s opinion ; the Queen was quite rude about it. 

The whole hall was silent when the stranger slowly took his helmet off, revealing his true face. It was the face of a hedgehog and Eira heard the gasps of horror all around her. She glanced at Jaskier who stood unfaced by the reveal against the wall, a bit closer towards Eira which told her he was still trying to find his way through the crowd. 

The Queen jumped up, Geralt mimicked her movement and Eira felt the presence of the Druid behind her. 

“Don’t do anything,” he whispered, “don’t use your powers. There’s magic in the air, you can feel it too.”

She merely nodded, hands into fists already and Eira swallowed to hold down her powers. It took restraint to not leash out and Geralt must have felt it. The witcher’s ember eyes turned into her direction and he shook his head. An unspoken command and Eira bit her tongue until it hurt. 

Everything moved fast ; young men drew their swords, not wanting to lose their chance on marriage with the beautiful Pavetta to a Hedgehog. Eira took a quick step back until she felt the wall against her back when one of the soldiers next to her drew his spear. 

It was then that she felt the warm hand of Jaskier on hers. Her eyes wide when she met his gaze and the next thing Eira knew was that the loudest noise, no scream, she ever heard, made her buckle down and cover her ears. 

It hurt. So bad that Eira thought her ears would bleed if Pavetta didn’t stop screaming soon. Glass shattered, candles went out and the large chandelier started moving dangerously. 

Jaskier had dropped his lute, bended down over her to shield her from the flying glass pieces. Eira cried out when her magic started twirling inside her ; restless, ready to lash out and prevent her vessel from danger. 

She had no idea how Jaskier did it, but he lifted up her chin so Eira faced him with tears in her eyes. The amount of power that she needed to held herself back, made her body hurt and when he saw her tears, the bard pulled her close against him. Forgetting to shield of his ears, forgetting that he too might get hurt by the flying debris around them. 

Eira held onto him, her arms circled around his torso and she buried her face into the crook of his neck. He was the only one who was able to hold her back from unleashing one of the Elements that were raging inside of her. 

He held her. Tight and steady. He warm breath on her cheek and Eira trembled in his arms. 

The scream stopped eventually, but Eira still clung onto the bard as if the chaos was still going on around them. 

She only let go when she heard that it was because of Geralt and the Druid that Pavetta finally stopped causing the mayhem. That the witcher deserved a gift and when Eira finally turned her head towards the Hedgehog, she saw the face had changed into one of a handsome man instead. 

Calanthe gave her approval and Geralt sighed annoyed, asking the gift of surprise just like Pavetta’s father had given the Hedgehog for saving his life. 

It was just a second after that the Princess started puking and everyone stared at each other. 

“Fuck,” Geralt muttered before he turned to leave the destroyed room. 

“What,” Eira was confused and Jaskier helped her up. 

“The Princess is pregnant,” he mumbled, wiped some glass pieces from his suit and her dress. “Geralt is now bound to the child in her belly.”

Eira her face was expressionless and her gaze caught the lute on the ground. She swiftly picked it up and gave it to the bard before they both made their way out of the room, following the Witcher like they always did.


	16. Under a Violet moon

Under a Violet Moon

Geralt walked out of the castle quite fast. His face equalled a thunderstorm and Eira decided it would be better to let him be for now. When the bard wanted to go talk to the witcher, the elemental had grabbed him by the elbow. 

Eira shook her head. 

“Let him be,” she murmured, “I think it’s for the best to join him tomorrow.”

Jaskier had nodded with his hands leaning on his hips. 

“You’re probably right,” he spoke and watched the full moon above them. 

They were out of the castle and walked a bit in a comfortable silence side by side. Their hands touched sometimes, making Eira smile and looking up at the stars in the bright night sky. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t wrote you,” the bard spoke up and held his pace. 

They were on a small, dusty road in the middle of the night with nothing but the two of them. And an owl, Eira could hear its sound coming from one of the trees around them. 

The elemental looked up at him. 

“Why didn’t you? I would have written back,” she said. 

“I didn’t know what to write,” Jaskier admitted. “It would always be the same letter. That I missed you. That I wished I didn’t have to leave. That I wanted to be next to you instead of singing before some rich folks. It wouldn’t be my most poetic work.”

Eira stared up at him in silence while she hesitantly took his hands into her own. She wanted to have Jaskier close to her, to touch him and feel his skin against hers. A feeling foreign to her, but yet it felt good to have the bard back with her. 

“I missed you too,” she whispered and felt her cheeks heat up while staring at his feet. “I’m … new to this and when that troubadour lady came to you at the castle,” she doubted to admit her jealousy and sighed. “I felt as if I wanted to have her gone. Out of your sight, I mean.”

Jaskier laughed, a warm, rumbling sound that woke the butterflies in her stomach. 

“She’s an old friend,” he said, one of his hands came to rest on her face. “You shouldn’t be jealous on anyone.”

He urged her to look up at him again and Eira saw his beautiful smile right before Jaskier kissed her gently. His arms circled around her waist and pulled Eira close against him. 

The Elemental hummed out of pure happiness and her fingers played with his hair. Jaskier held her close, his lips exploring the corners of her lips, her neck and back again. 

Eira felt warm all of a sudden. Too warm and pulled a bit back to catch her breath. Her lips tingled from the kiss and she still felt the bard’s lips on hers. Eira her gaze travelled up from his chest, where her hands rested, to his face and met his eyes. The light blue had taken on a different, darker shade and Eira felt another longing settle between her thighs. 

The bard coughed to clear his throat and looked up to the sky again. The full moon had a lovely violet shade now and casted its soft light upon both of them. 

“I haven’t seen you dance at the castle,” Jaskier murmured with a smile. “I did see how the young men were all enchanted by your presence. Yet, you refused to dance with every single one of them.”

Eira followed his gaze up, hands still resting on his chest and Jaskier’s arms around her. 

“I had no interest in them. They had nothing exciting to tell,” she said and felt the bard chuckle. “Also, I can’t dance. I think. I never danced before.”

His face snapped into her direction again, a serious look crossed his features and Eira suddenly felt like she said something wrong. 

“You never danced before?”

She hesitantly shook her head, her gaze still up to the moon and stars. 

“No, never had the chance,” she stated. 

“Let’s change that, shall we?!”

Eira frowned when he suddenly let her go and took a step back. The first thing she wanted to do was to pull him back against her. She missed his warmth already, but instead, Eira looked at him confused. The bard bowed before her with a large grin. She laughed softly. 

“There’s no music, Jaskier,” she said when he took her hand, twirled her around and pulled her closer again. 

“There’s always music,” he murmured in her ear, “you just need to listen carefully.”

He moved his feet and Eira followed. Slowly at first and when the Elemental wanted to look at her feet, Jaskier lifted up her chin and told her to look at him instead. 

He twirled her around and back against him under the night sky. Jaskier was right ; Eira could hear the music in her mind and loved how he led her through the dance. The smile on her face was bright and Jaskier sometimes kissed her in between twirls. 

Her dress ruffled on the path and Eira was happy she got rid of the heels when they left the castle. Her feet darted on their own as soon as she got the hang of it and Jaskier grinned happily. 

A sudden change in the air made Eira stop and look around her. The bard, still holding her hands, frowned and followed her gaze. 

“What’s wrong?”

Eira held up her hand to keep him silent for a few moments. Something tugged inside her. Something that made a sudden sense of fear took hold of her. Her magic buzzed, hands started to shake uncontrollably and Jaskier looked at her in worry. 

“Eira?”

The Elemental snapped her head into his direction. The sound of the woods around them suddenly sharp and clear in her ears. Her gaze was determined yet there was fear in them. 

“Geralt,” she said and turned around towards the East. “He’s in trouble.”

The bard arched a brow. 

“What?”

“Trust me,” she said fast and started to move into the direction of the woods, “he needs help.”

“Eira, he’s probably sleeping,” Jaskier told her, but she shook her head briskly. 

“No,” Eira said, “he isn’t. Something’s wrong. Stay here, please.”

“I’m coming with you,” Jaskier shrugged when Eira looked at him. “I don’t know why or how, but if Geralt’s in danger, I can help.”

She wanted to tell him no. That it was better to stay back. That she was the one who could help the witcher on her own. 

But there was no time. The feeling of dread that spread around them grew with every second. When Eira glanced over her shoulder, she noticed the heavy mist that took a hold of the forest. It grew thicker until she was hardly able to see Jaskier. 

His hand searched for hers, grabbed it and didn’t let go again. The golden thread that bound Geralt and her, moved slowly out of her stomach, created a path that would eventually lead them to the Witcher. Invisible to the Bard, but Eira could see it clearly. 

“We need to hurry,” she stated and started walking.


	17. Alone

Chapter 16 - Alone 

Eira ran through the mist, hardly able to see what was in front of her. She held one of her arms stretched out in front of her to keep the low branched of trees out of her face. Her other hand still clung onto the bard’s. 

“Eira, we can’t see anything,” she heard Jaskier from behind her. 

The elemental slowed down, not because she wanted to, but because she thought Jaskier’s voice seemed so far away to her. She came to a full stop and abruptly turned on her heels. The bard almost bumped into her and Eira her gaze flickered wildly around their surroundings. 

The mist made it unable to see anything, but the sense of dread became almost too much to bear for her. Her magic hummed nervously inside her, the golden cord flickered into the direction the Witcher must be. 

“Something’s not right,” she whispered again and Jaskier let go of her hand. 

A panicked feeling took hold of her and Eira snapped her gaze into his direction. 

“Don’t let go,” she said, her voice strong yet begging at the same time. 

“Eira, slow down,” he said, but to Eira it seemed the bard spoke slow. Too slow. 

When she looked up at him, she saw the obvious worry in his eyes and Eira shook her head. 

“No, Jaskier,” she said while the elemental grabbed his hand again, “You don’t understand. There’s something wrong here. I don’t know what. Can’t you feel it?”

The bard looked at her, features serious and he nodded slowly. 

“The mist is something I haven’t seen before,” he spoke. His words slowly reaching Eira’s ears and it looked like his lips were moving sluggish. 

“We need to stay together,” she said, the sound of an owl in the distance reached their ears. 

“Eira,” Jaskier grabbed her hand again, pulled her a bit closer to him. “Everything seems to go slow.”

The elemental nodded, not replying to the bard since she felt the sudden tug on the magical, golden cord again. 

“We need to find Geralt,” she spoke up, turning again and walked into the direction of where the magic told her to go. 

The forest was a maze. They couldn’t even see the nearest tree and more than often, Eira or Jaskier tripped over some roots or low growth. Except for the hooting of the owl in the distance, there wasn’t any sound to be heard around them. Which made Eira’s heartbeat speed up frantically. 

“Geralt,” she yelled into the endless mist. 

It seemed to swallow up her words, just to be returned to her own ears. An echo that didn’t reach the Witcher. Because something didn’t want her to get to Geralt. 

“Something’s holding us back,” she spoke loud. 

It took some time before the bard replied, as if he only heard everything a few minutes later. 

“We should go back. Geralt will be fine,” there was fear in his voice. 

Something that Eira could not blame him for. Fear had settled in her stomach and bones by now. 

“Eira,” her name came as a whisper around them. “Eira.”

The pair stood still and for a moment, Eira thought it was Geralt. Something was off by his voice. It sounded like him, yet there was something in there that didn’t fit the Witcher’s timbre. 

It was sudden and fast when Jaskier let go of her hand. It made Eira spin around to face him. His beautiful eyes wide with fear and the bard held his stomach. 

“Something has me,” he was able to say before Jaskier got pulled back into the mist. 

“No!” 

Eira screamed, stretched out her hand for him to take it, but the bard was soon out of sight. He screamed her name and Eira ran into the direction Jaskier disappeared in. 

Tripping over bushes, scratching her arms and knees in the process while her hands clenched into fists. Whatever it was that took Jaskier, Eira’s magic was ready to be used. 

The earth moved around her, trembled under her feet and rocks started floating around her. Her hands were ice, ready to strike when needed. 

“Jaskier!” 

Her voice didn’t seem to carry far and Eira had to stop to catch her breath. She frantically looked to the left and right. Behind her and in front of her. Every direction looked the same : clouded in the heavy, impenetrable mist. 

“Alone again,” the same voice reached her ears and Eira looked around her. 

Her breath came in short intervals and it left little clouds before her lips. It told her it cooled down, almost to a freezing point and Eira now feared for the bard’s life in this cold. It didn’t harm her, yet the vessel she was using shivered and her lips turned blue. 

“Let them go,” she spoke loud. “Where are they?”

A chuckle was heard. First a male’s voice that resembled the witcher’s, yet now, it was obvious feminine. 

“You think you can command me, little one?”

It sounded so close, yet so far. 

“Alone, you’re alone,” the voice laughed, moved again from direction and Eira moved with it. 

“You’re powerful,” the female hummed into the air and Eira saw the mist move slightly at her right side. “So powerful. Yet, so scared. Tasty fear.”

Eira swallowed before she raised her arm. Ice was thrown into thin air. She had no target, just the moving mist next to her and the laughter only grew louder. 

“Poor Elemental,” it hummed, voice back to male. “So scared of being alone.”

Something clicked behind Eira and she spun around. Her eyes grew wide, her head nodded back because there was a tall creature who stood before her now. Its limbs long, too long to be in proportion. It had no eyes, at least, what she could see. Just a face with a mouth, large and sharp teeth were seen. 

The Earth moved again. Rocks spun through the air, hit the monster before her yet it didn’t face it. It merely moved his long limbs to let the rocks fall down on the ground again. 

“Your fear makes me stronger,” it giggled like a child. “The bard is dead.”

Eira took a deep breath in, shook her head. 

“You’re lying, monster,” she snapped viciously.

“The wither is dead too,” it said.

Eira hissed angrily and moved her arms in front of her. The ground started shaking underneath them and the monster was caught off guard when an enormous rock shot out of the ground in front of it. 

“Where are they?!”

Her voice high and heart beat fast. The beast fell back slightly, regained its posture and with one swing of his long arm, the rock scattered in a thousand pieces. 

“Dead!”

Its voice roared, causing Eira to held her hands before her ears for the second time tonight. 

“You’re alone! Completely alone!”

She couldn’t control the fear that settled in her stomach and around her heart. The fear that the monster was right and that Jaskier and Geralt were dead. That Eira was alone once again like she was for years before meeting the Witcher. 

Tears stung behind her eyes while she realized that this was her biggest fear ; to roam around the world completely alone again. 

The monster laughed, loud and obnoxious. 

“Tasty tasty fear,” it hummed. 

“Dramatic,” another voice came from behind the creature. “And that says something when you know I travel with a bard most of the time.”

Eira looked up, saw Geralt holding himself steady by a large branch of a tree. His silver sword ready to strike. And so he did. The Witcher jumped and the monster was too slow to turn. 

The Elemental swiftly raised one of her hands and with a flick, she made the earth bound to her will. Creating a circle of rock around it so the creature couldn’t step back. 

The weapon sliced through the beast ; a sickening sound of flesh being ripped and blood that gushed heavily onto the ground. It fell down into its stone prison and Eira let her tears flow freely when she cast her gaze upon the Witcher. 

“You’re alive,” she stuttered when he walked to her. 

“It tricked you. It feeds on your fear,” Geralt said calmly and studied her face. 

His eyes softened a bit when he noticed the tears and the scratches. 

“Jaskier’s fine too. He’s waiting outside of the forest. Took me some time to convince him to stay put,” Geralt offered her the faintest smile he could muster up. 

Eira took a deep breath out of relief, yet the tears kept coming and she couldn’t hold them back. In one movement, she circled her arms around Geralt’s torso and rested her head against his chest. 

The Witcher grumbled something she couldn’t understand, but put one arm around her. 

“I’m fine, Eira,” he said, pushing her off of him after a few seconds. “Are you?”

She nodded while taking a step back and tried her tears. 

“I am now.”

“Good. Let’s go. Before the bard gets a heart attack and dies.”


	18. Jaskier

Chapter 17 

Jaskier’s POV

He was biting the skin on the side of his thumb. Nervous and scared at the same time. Waiting for either Geralt or Eira to emerge out of the forest and that strange mist that seemed to cover everything around him. 

Jaskier was back on the dusty road. At the exact place where he just danced with Eira. Geralt had found him in the forest ; alone and frightened to the core because Jaskier had lost track of Eira. Something had grabbed him from behind and pulled him away from her. 

It was in that moment, that the bard had wished he was able to fight. He felt useless and had started screaming her name. To no avail because Eira hadn’t answered. And that scared him more than Jaskier would like to admit. The fear that, whatever grabbed him, would be going after her. 

It felt like Jaskier had been roaming around for hours when someone grabbed him by the shoulder. He had screamed : loudly and cowardly. 

“Shut up, Jaskier,” the voice of Geralt reached his ears in slow motion and the bard had turned to face the Witcher. 

A sigh of relief escaped him and Jaskier leaned with his hands on his knees to take some deep breaths in. 

“Where’s Eira,” Geralt asked, his eyes a bright yellow while he scanned the forest. 

Jaskier shook his head. 

“I don’t know. We got separated. Something pulled me away from her,” the bard started and went to stand before Geralt. “Something big, Geralt! We need to find her!”

Geralt finally looked at him with a straight face and grabbed Jaskier by the shoulder. The Witcher started walking, briskly marching towards the treeline of the forest and when Jaskier saw the road again, the bard pulled himself away from the Witcher’s hold. 

“No, she is in the forest!”

Geralt turned around to fully face him. 

“I know,” he said. “You need to stay here.”

“The monster is after her,” the bard spoke hurried, panicked and Geralt took a deep breath through his nose. Clearly annoyed that Jaskier was keeping him back from going back in. 

“Eira can fend for herself,” Geralt spoke, yet a slight frown of doubt crossed his face. “Normally,” he added.

The doubt in Geralt’s voice and face made Jaskier grab his hair. 

“Normally? What do you mean! What’s in there?”

“A mongrel that feeds on fear,” was all Geralt said before he passed the bard. “Stay here. Be here when we come back.”

“Fuck no,” Jaskier muttered under his breath. “She needs me.”

“She needs you to be alive,” Geralt spoke harshly. “Now stay or I’ll tie you against a bloody tree.”

And so the Witcher went back into the forest, leaving Jaskier alone with the hooting owl that was still on the tree to his left. The bard looked at the bird while he started biting his nails first. And when they were gone, he started biting the skin. 

It was so silent around him. So erie that Jaskier felt and heard his own heart beat. He had no doubt that Geralt would be fine. The witcher was well trained. And though, Geralt had said that Eira could fend for her own, Jaskier never saw her fight. The girl didn’t even carry a weapon on her! 

Again, time seemed to go slow. This time not due some beast that lurked in the forest. No, this time because all Jaskier wanted was to hold Eira against him. To know that she was fine. Alive. 

He started walking, turned again, and walked the few metres again. Over and over again. The same path while his thoughts chaotically ran through his mind. 

They just reunited again. His time away from her made Jaskier realise he did like Eira. A lot. He had no idea where this thing they had would go, just that he was willing to try to make it work. Whatever it was. 

Jaskier loved the attention he got from women. Especially those girls in Inn’s and castles who craved for the attention of the bard. The hope they had that he would write a song about them. To make them live forever in a tale of a bard. 

He never once wrote a song about any of them. And Jaskier probably never would. 

Eira was different. Made him feel different and, to his credit, Jaskier didn’t even try to bed her. Though, that was mostly what drove him to women in taverns. It was easy pleasure and entertainment. When the sun came up, you just left and parted ways. 

He had missed Eira, there was no doubt about it. Her presence and the way she listened to him. The sparkle in her eyes when Jaskier sung or simply played the lute. Yet, Jaskier couldn’t stop thinking Eira hid something from him. Something that Geralt did know. 

And the fear on her face when she thought the Witcher was hurt. Or worse. 

His thoughts were interrupted abruptly when a roar of pain sliced through the air. Jaskier stood frozen in place, stared at the forest and saw how the mist slowly travelled up and up...To eventually fade away entirely. 

The bard didn’t doubt a second when he strode towards the treeline again and entered the forest. He had heard footsteps and when he saw a puff of gossamer hair, he couldn’t help but smile bright. The relief that washed over him when he saw Eira emerge between the trees was something he hadn’t felt before. 

“Eira,” he spoke up and got her attention. 

She held her pace and locked eyes with him. Jaskier could see the scratches on her face, the dress that was torn on several places and the streaks of tears on her cheeks. 

Yet, it was the sparkling in her eyes as soon as Eira looked at him that made Jaskier move towards her. The bard moved fast and easily through the low growth, jumped over a low hanging branch and without thinking about it, Jaskier pulled Eira into the tightest hugs he had ever given. 

Her arms came around his back, pulling him even closer to her and Jaskier felt the sobs that escaped her throat. His hands caressed her hair, her back and cheeks. 

He let her cry while Jaskier glanced at Geralt who stood a bit back. 

“What happened?”

The Witcher looked up at him while he kept cleaning dark blood from his silver sword. 

“A fear demon,” he replied. “It wanted Eira.”

“Why?”

Geralt shrugged. 

“The why isn’t important. It didn’t succeed. The monster probably messed with her head.”

Jaskier frowned, pushed Eira a bit off him but still held her in arms reach. 

“Eira, are you okay?”

Blue eyes looked up at him, tears still streaming freely from her cheeks and he wiped them away with his thumb. A faint smile crossed her features and Eira nodded. 

“I thought you were dead,” she spoke silently. 

Jaskier’s eyes widened and pressed a kiss on her forehead. 

“I’m fine,” he whispered against her skin before looking over her. “You’re bleeding. We need to find you a bath and take care of the wounds.”

“I know a farmer who lives a bit farther down the road. Go to him. Tell him I send you,” Geralt spoke while he put away his sword again. “I need to meditate. See you both tomorrow.”

Jaskier glanced at Geralt who was already turning away. Yet, the witcher glanced over his shoulder towards the bard. 

“Let her get some sleep,” he spoke. “She needs rest.”

The bard rested one of his arms around Eira’s shoulder and nodded once towards Geralt. 

“Let’s go,” he spoke gently. “We’ll find you a bath and the softest of beds.”

There was the shadow of a smile that made Eira’s lips curl up slightly. He held her close while they made their way to the farm that Geralt had spoken about.


	19. Slumber

Eira’s POV

She wasn’t able to speak up. Not yet. 

After she saw that Jaskier was fine and reunited with him on the dusty road, her emotions seemed to gotten the better of her. All Eira had wanted, was to hold him and before she was fully aware, she had broken down in tears. Unable to stop them from streaming down her cheeks, wetting her dress and Jaskier’s jacket. 

He didn’t seem to mind. At least, he never said anything about it. 

The bard had guided her towards the farm that Geralt had spoken about. A small, cosy house with only the farmer who lived there. The man was confused and hesitant at first. It was close to midnight by now and Eira was well aware she must have looked like a real mess. 

As soon as Jaskier told the man the Witcher’s name, a smile crossed his lips and they could enter the old man’s home. It wasn’t a lot, but the farmer gave his spare room to them. He also made sure there were towels, a bucket and some clean sheets. 

Eira sat down silently on the bed, her gaze followed Jaskier’s movements who sometimes smiled at her. He looked tired. The dark circles around his eyes betrayed his fatigue and when Jaskier took the bucket with cold water, he kneeled before her. 

“Your arm,” he asked and glanced up at her. 

Eira didn’t hesitate and stretched her arm out. He softly took her hand in his while the other plunged a small towel into the water. 

“It will sting,” Jaskier said. 

It didn’t hurt. It didn’t even sting. Jaskier worked gently and softly while he cleaned the scratches on both of her arms. His fingertips left a warm, tingling sensation wherever he touched her skin. Something that made her throat dry and Eira couldn’t help to watch him work. 

He chuckled awkwardly while he took care of her bruised knee. 

“I feel watched, Eira,” he murmured and glanced up at her. 

The elemental pursed her lips together and quickly turned her gaze towards the wooden ceiling. 

“Sorry,” she whispered, her hands grabbing the cotton sheet underneath her. 

Her knee did hurt when Jaskier cleaned it and the silence between them became close to unbearable to her. 

“I thought you died,” she blurted out, her gaze still on the boring ceiling. 

She could feel his hands stop, still resting warm on her leg. 

“You got pulled away. I thought it killed you,” she spoke, trying to hold back the sob that was threatening to escape her. “I forgot about Geralt. That’s a bad thing. I shouldn’t have forgotten about him, but I wanted to find you first.”

Silence. 

Jaskier was still there. His hands rested on her leg, but didn’t speak. 

“The monster found me,” she went on, still staring at the ceiling. “Told me it killed you. Killed both of you. That I was alone again.”

This time the sob did escape her and Eira felt his fingers squeeze her leg tenderly. 

“Is that your biggest fear?” Jaskier spoke, his voice hoarse and the elemental nodded. 

“Yes,” she managed to get the reply out of her throat. 

It was an honest and sincere answer. One that she never thought to share with anyone, but here she was ; spilling her greatest fear to a bard she met months ago. 

He moved. Eira could feel the bed move and felt his hand on her cheek. She turned her head to face Jaskier who smiled at her reassuringly. 

“It’s okay to be scared,” he told her and wiped her tears away for the second time tonight. “It’s only human.”

Eira swallowed thickly and turned away from him to look at the scratches. Now clean and a bright red. She should just spit it out. Tell him the truth about herself. Maybe he’ll forgive her for lying? Maybe not? 

“I’m scared of spiders and losing my lute,” Jaskier suddenly laughed. 

Eira forgot her thoughts and turned to lock eyes with him. 

“Spiders? Really? That’s so…,” she chuckled. 

“Cliché? I know,” he laughed and Eira felt herself relax a bit more. “You can have my to sleep in. Geralt will bring your bags and Bramble tomorrow morning, I suppose.”

Eira felt her heart swell in her chest while looking at him. 

“Thank you,” she said and smiled. 

Jaskier shrugged and stood up from the bed. He swiftly pulled his shirt out and threw it into her direction. Eira caught the piece of clothing, but her gaze travelled over his bare torso. When he turned away from her to go and move the bucket with water, Eira lets her eyes roam over his back and shoulders. 

He had a lean built, but he could carry the heavy bucket without a problem. The underlying muscles in his arms flexed and Eira widened her eyes when she felt her heartbeat speed up. Her throat dry and a tingling feeling between her legs suddenly emerged, which made her press her legs tighter together. 

“Are you still feeling okay?” 

She realized her lips were parted and took a deep breath in to get her thoughts together again. 

“Yes,” she breathed. “I’m fine. Totally fine. I’m euh, I’m going to change into this.”

She held up the shirt and stood up from the bed. 

“I’ll turn around,” Jaskier offered. “I won’t peep, I promise.”

He did just that and as promised, Jaskier didn’t peep while Eira got rid of the torn dress and stood in nothing but her underwear. She glanced at the ripped, blue evening gown with some feeling of remorse. Eira had hoped to one day wear it again, but looking at it, the dress really was beyond using it again. 

“I’m ready,” Eira spoke while she let herself fall back onto the bed. 

The soft mattress underneath her made her sleepy and she felt how tired her vessel truly was. She tried to stifle a yawn that came up while Jaskier came to lay next to her. Eira tried not to look at his body, afraid she might start staring again. Instead, the elemental turned her head and locked eyes with him. 

The bard’s face was serious while his eyes flicker over her face. His fingertips moved some strands of her hair out of the way and his touch felt electric on her skin. 

“You’re not alone anymore,” he told her the same thing that he had said months ago while lying in a field with her. 

She nodded while Eira took his hand and let their fingers entwine. When he moved closer, Eira was the one who closed the distance between them. The kiss started slow and gentle, but turned passionate soon. His hands were everywhere ; her hair, the back of her neck, her waist and up again. Before she was fully aware, Jaskier leaned above her. His body pinning hers against the mattress. 

Her own fingertips darted across his skin. Resting on the back of his neck and in his hair while she suddenly felt Jaskier pull back. They locked eyes and both were out of breath. The dark blue shade that Eira had seen only once before had pushed back the ocean blue in his eyes. 

Scared that he could hear her heartbeat, Eira took a large gulp of air to calm herself. His gaze was intense while he kept looking at her and after a few seconds, Jaskier kissed her tenderly on her sensitive lips. 

“You need sleep,” he murmured, his voice hoarse and rolled off of her. “Come here.”

He opened his arms and Eira rolled into them. As soon as Jaskier closed her into his embrace, Eira hummed out of happiness. The bard chuckled, a deep warm sound to her ear. His warmth engulfed her wholy and she leaned her head against his chest. Jaskier’s chin rested on her hair and his calm breathing made her soon drift off into a peaceful slumber.


	20. Sunflowers

Chapter 19 

Jaskier’s POV

He held her close against him. Her skin cold against his and Jaskier pulled the sheets with one arm so it covered her. His other arm held her close, Eira’s head rested in the crook of his neck and her breathing was calm and easy. 

When Jaskier moved his head slightly to look at her face, he noticed how peaceful she looked. Which made him smile and held back a chuckle when she swiftly moved against his body again. Her fingertips softly on his side and Jaskier looked at the ceiling when he felt himself reacting on her closeness again. 

“Think of spiders,” he murmured to himself. “Big, hairy spiders.”

The kiss got heated right before she fell asleep, but Jaskier had held himself back. Pulled away before his hands could travel underneath the long shirt she wore. To let his fingers trace lines at her waist and up and up and up…

He bit his bottom lip, cursed himself and imagined the biggest monstrous spider. It helped and as soon as he calmed himself, Jaskier leaned his head on her hair again. He was exhausted. Not physical, but emotional. The turmoil he had felt when Eira was lost, was something he hadn’t had to deal with in the past. 

Of course, he had loved women in the past. There were a few that he could think about with a warm, fuzzy feeling. There was one woman who Jaskier had loved more dearly than the others. It was a cliché story, really. Boy loved girl, girl loved boy, they grew up and went different ways. Last time he saw her, she got married and had her third kid on the way. 

Eira moved lightly next to him, turned around on her side and faced away from him. Yet, her hand sleepily found his and Jaskier settled himself against her back. One arm underneath his head on the pillow while the other rested in the curve of her waist. 

He focused on the slow, calm breathing of the woman next to him and soon drifted off to a much needed rest. 

Jaskier found himself being awoken by the ray of sunshine that made a way into the small room and onto his face. He blinked a few times, tried to shield the sun with his arm, but failed miserably. He grunted and turned on his back, only then realizing something heavy was on his other arm. 

The bard snapped his head to his left and saw Eira still asleep on his arm. He couldn’t help the sleepy smile that crept on his face while his eyes travelled down. Jaskier noticed the sheets were down to her knees, the shirt she wore had moved up and barely covered her stomach. It was the first time the bard saw the soft curves and he knew exactly where he would place light kisses, if he ever got the chance. 

He moved fast though ; pulled his arm gently from underneath her and pulled the sheet back up to protect her modesty. The movement must have stirred Eira awake because she slowly turned towards him, eyes still closed and put her arms around him. 

“Morning,” she murmured against his skin and Jaskier played with her hair while staring at the ceiling. 

“Morning,” he replied, a smile evident in his voice. 

She moved her head, let her chin rest on his chest while Eira turned to lie on her stomach. The smile she gave him was beautiful and Jaskier was stunned for a moment while his gaze travelled over her face. Her hair a mess, the sleep still evident in her eyes, but Eira looked even more gorgeous than ever before. 

“What’s your favourite flower,” he asked while his fingers roam through her hair, encountered some tangles and knots. 

A cute frown settled between Eira’s brows and she let herself roll on her back. 

“Sunflowers,” she said and Jaskier was surprised by her quick answer. 

If he had asked this months ago, Eira would have shrugged and told him she didn’t know. It was like she had no idea what she even liked to do, or see or hear. As if Eira had a total disinterest in things that she may enjoy. Yet, now that they were laying side by side, fingers entwined, Jaskier noticed the bright look in her eyes when she told him her favourite flower. 

“Your favourite song?”

“Of you or someone else?” she asked while glancing up at him. 

Jaskier shook his head. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied honestly, “I just want to know what you like.”

She turned to face that boring ceiling again and fell silent. Making Jaskier unsure if Eira had even heard him. 

“Did you hear me,” he asked after a few minutes of silence and she nodded slowly. 

“Of course,” she said matter of factly. “I always hear you. Your voice is my favourite sound in the whole world. And I heard a lot of voices while roaming around.”

That froze him in place while Eira swung her legs out of the bed and started to untangle her hair with her hands. Like she didn’t just say the most lovable thing someone had ever said to him. He basked in the complement while watching, and hearing, her curse with her hair. 

She looked happy, as if nothing had happened last night and Jaskier moved out of the bed. 

“Are you feeling better?”

She glanced over her shoulder to look at him. 

“Yes,” she replied. “Thank you for staying with me last night.”

Jaskier shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. 

“Anytime!” 

He shouted awkwardly and swiftly grabbed a fresh shirt out of one his bags. His heart still warm and fuzzy from her complement before and Jaskier swiftly pulled the shirt over his head before the chill of the morning would be able to touch him. 

When done, he walked over to Eira, who now stood silently looking outside the small window and over the farm. The man of the house was already up and working his field. 

He circled his arms around her from behind and Eira rested her back against his chest. Her fingers playing absentmindedly with his and they both enjoyed their proximity in silence. Comfortable and just the two of them. 

Then her body shifted slightly. 

“Geralt’s here,” she spoke up and Jaskier looked in the distance. 

The small road they walked on yesterday showed the shadow of a person in the distance. Making his way towards the farm with three larger shadows following him. The Witcher must have brought their horses with him. 

Eira swivelled around in his arms and looked up at him. He smiled sadly at her, not wanting this moment to end and Jaskier felt her hands travel up his arms towards the back of his neck. She looked at him sweetly before her lips touched his. Gentle and soft. Her body pressed against his and Jaskier groaned when she let go. 

The moment lost and now a memory. The loss of her closeness send a light shiver over his spine and Jaskier stared at the witcher who came closer and closer. And for the first time since he met Geralt, the bard wished the witcher would have stayed away a little longer.


	21. The Farm

Chapter 20   
Eira’s POV

She walked out of the room after Jaskier had given her his jacket to cover herself up. He told her it was for the chill, and Eira had taken it though she had no need to shield herself from the morning cold. The Elemental did feel relieved after she had covered herself up a bit. 

Eira met Geralt in the stables where he was tying up the horses and fed them. The elemental waited patiently until Geralt was done and eventually turned to face her. 

“You look better,” he said and threw one of her bags towards her. “You need clothes.”

She grabbed the leather sack and smiled gratefully. 

“Thank you,” she murmured and turned to leave again. 

Yet, Eira changed her mind and swiveled around on her bare feet. Geralt had his arms already crossed and shook his head as soon as she wanted to say something. 

“It’s not your fault,” he murmured. “The beast was playing tricks with your mind.”

“I thought it killed Jaskier and you,” Eira said, her tone almost a whisper. 

She knew Geralt could hear her and he waved a hand in the air. 

“Still alive. So is the bard,” he grumbled and leaned back against the stable. 

“I couldn’t kill it. Without your help, I mean. I was distracted,” Eira spoke and took some steps closer to him. 

She saw a ball of hay that was tied together and jumped to sit on it. 

“You were distracted,” Geralt glanced at the field before them. “You need to learn to focus. Not let those emotions control you. The fear.”

“How do you do it?”

He laughed. A dry, humourless laugh and turned his head towards her. Their gazes met and Eira noticed the tired lines across the witcher’s features. 

“Training,” he spoke and stood up straight. “Years and years of training.”

He offered his hand towards her and Eira took it. Geralt helped her jump of the hay before letting her go again. Her magic hummed inside, calm and peaceful. 

“Could you teach me?”

Geralt snapped his head into her direction, eyes a bit wider than normal which betrayed his surprise that she asked. It was such a small change in his demeanor that someone else wouldn’t have noticed it. 

“You should learn to control them,” Geralt spoke hesitantly. “You’re an elemental, you can do it yourself. You don’t me to teach you the way Witchers do it.”

Eira arched a brow. 

“It seems to help you,” she countered back, her voice friendly and Geralt huffed. 

“Yes,” he replied, but shook his head. “I’m not going to teach you, Eira. You’re emotions is what makes you you.”

His voice had lost some of its normal grumpiness and Geralt found her gaze again. 

“Did the bard behave himself?” He asked and Eira knew the subject was closed. 

They both started walking towards the house and Eira chuckled. 

“He did,” she replied and deserved a grunt from the Witcher. “No, truly, he was a real gentleman.”

Geralt nodded as a reply and gave Jaskier a roll of the eye when the bard made his way to them. 

“Get dressed,” the witcher spoke. “We’ll leave around midday.”

Eira glanced up at him and frowned. 

“You look tired,” she remarked, felt Jaskier’s hand find hers but kept her gaze on the Witcher. 

Geralt wiped a hand over his face and leaned cross armed against the house. 

“I didn’t sleep well,” he grunted, his voice hoarse and carrying the same tune as always. 

“We only leave by midday. You can rest until then,” Jaskier stated. 

There was a first for everything, Eira had learned. This time it was the witcher who grunted and eventually nodded. Without another word Geralt made his way into the house and they could hear his heavy footsteps going on the wooden stairs. 

Eira held up her bag for Jaskier. 

“I’m going to get dressed,” she hummed and Jaskier rubbed her back. 

“Aren’t you cold?” He asked. 

“No, I love the cold,” she replied truthfully. “And I have your jacket. Will give it back in a moment.”

She found the small bathroom stall just next to the house and pulled up her nose at the toilet. It was at least shielded off by some wooden fence. Eira quickly fished some trousers, brown leather, out of her bags and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. 

Her fingers skillfully braided her long hair in a messy sideways braid before she made her way towards Jaskier again. He held his lute and seemed to be inspecting it. 

“I need new strings,” he murmured unhappily, but his eyes brightened when Eira sat next to him on the ground. 

Legs crossed and her elbow rested against his. They sat in comfortable silence together. Having small talk and Jaskier told her about his childhood. How he was the little brother of six others. That he actually grew up as nobility in a large house with servants. Ate the finest of foods and dishes. Had the best tutors and played sports. 

How his brothers had teased him when Jaskier showed interest in music more than his books. He didn’t want to be a scholar, nor did he wanted to be a lord of a small castle or marry out of political reasons. Travel the world and write songs. He told her that he did try to live like his brothers, but eventually found an old lute and learned himself to play it. It was a turning point and when Jaskier was a teenager, he left his home to find experiences he could write about. 

“You can’t write a song or write a tale if you don’t see the world,” he finished and Eira smiled. 

She thought it must be lovely to have such memories. 

“You dared to stand up to your brothers,” she spoke softly. “Not many would be strong enough to do that.”

Jaskier huffed. 

“I’m not strong, Eira,” he said and found her gaze. “I’m not a fighter, like Geralt. I’m a singer, a writer.”

Eira grabbed his elbow and stopped him from turning away from her. 

“You don’t have to be a fighter to be strong,” she said confused. “Most strength you find inside yourself. Like...magic. It’s a part of you. You’re strong. Stronger than you think.”

Jaskier touched her cheek with his fingertips. 

“You think I’m strong?” He asked doubtfully and Eira offered him one of her brightest smiles. 

“One of the strongest persons I ever met,” she said sincerely. “You were crazy enough to use yourself as a shield to keep me safe at Cintra when Pavetta lost control.”

He chuckled and looked at his hands. 

“Magic is crazy. I didn’t want to see you hurt,” he admitted and Eira only felt her smile grow when Jaskier looked back at her. 

“Magic is…,” she doubted. “Crazy.”

She couldn’t argue with that little fact and again, Eira felt like she should have said something in that exact moment. She wanted to scream at him. That she too had magic. That she could wield the three elements. 

Jaskier must have noticed something and a frown settled between his brows. 

“What are you thinking of?”

She opened her lips, but felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. 

“I can’t sleep,” Geralt spoke up from behind them. “We’ll leave. I’ve heard there were sightings of what could be a Pale Widow.”

“Pale Widow?” Both Jaskier and Eira asked in union. 

“A white, large centipede like beast,” Geralt answered and started to make his way to the horses. “Lives in underground lairs. Feeds on small animals.”

“Then why should we kill it?” Eira asked confused while she took reign of her horse. 

Geralt turned to face her, features serious and eyes tired. 

“Because, I heard that last month three young kids served for its dinner. Humans are also small animals.”

“Blunt, Geralt,” Jaskier spoke matter of factly. 

“No time to wrap it and put a bow on it,” Geralt retorted back and Eira even took a small step back away from him. 

She turned to Jaskier instead and lifted up her brows. 

“He didn’t sleep,” she explained. “Maybe you should find your new strings and we meet up in a few days?”

“How do I find you?”

“Can’t you track?” Geralt intervened and Jaskier puffed out. 

“No,” the bard replied. 

“Fine,” the witcher sighed after Eira looked at him. “Follow the river. We’ll follow it too. You’ll find us. Eventually.”

Jaskier pressed a kiss on the corner of Eira’s lips before he left. She stared at him leaving on the horse with a lazy smile on her face. A curse was muttered behind her and Eira glanced over her shoulder. 

“Are you coming or will you keep staring like that?”

“To the Gods, Geralt,” she spoke while jumping on Bramble. “Your mood gets only better when you don’t sleep.”

“Shut up, Eira,” he retorted back and she bit back a laugh while following the Witcher to their next monster.


	22. The Witcher

Geralt’s POV 

He couldn’t sleep the night after they left the farm. Geralt was relieved Jaskier had made his way into the other direction. Not having the bard around with his never ending chatting would have been dangerous by now. His mood was low due to lack of sleep and during the night, Geralt made sure the campfire stayed bright and burning. 

To his surprise, Eira went to sleep close by him. She hadn’t spoken to him the whole day while they rode their horses through the woods. Only murmured something when the witcher went out to hunt a hare or two. He had no doubt the elemental felt his mood, which made her silent and let him have some space. 

He was grateful, but wouldn’t say it. Geralt just wanted to have a night of rest. Meditating didn’t help. Counting bloody sheep didn’t help. And getting drunk, he still had to try and considered it for the day after. 

Yet, the elemental had laid down on her side next to him. Her hand peacefully under her cheek and her breathing soon became calm. Geralt hadn’t seen Eira sleep. She usually went out into the forest to find a place for her own to spend the night. 

He arched a brow when he thought about it. Maybe she became more human when time went by. Her presence didn’t disturb him. The Witcher got used to Eira travelling along with him. They bickered sometimes, much to his amusement. The stubborn streak and the way she lifted her chin high when she tried to prove her point, made him bite back laughter every time Eira did that. 

Geralt saw every hour pass of the night and when morning came, he had grunted and cursed. Which woke up Eira from her peaceful slumber. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” She asked while she stood up and stretched her limbs. 

Geralt snapped his head towards her. 

“No,” he bluntly told her. “Not that you could know,” he snapped angrily. 

Something in her features twitched and she swiftly turned to follow him with Bramble. Geralt had no idea where the Pale Widow was located, only that they had to look for a cave or something that would lead them underground. 

“There’s still some hare from last night,” Eira disturbed his thoughts. 

He didn’t reply, he wasn’t hungry. 

Instead the Witcher looked around and jumped of his horse when he found some bones on the ground. He took one, circled it between his fingers and threw it down again. 

“A child,” he muttered. “We’re close.”

“How do we kill it?”

He took a deep breath through his nose. 

“They’re really fast which makes them tricky. Though, it shouldn’t be too hard to kill it.”

“Did you kill one in the past?”

Geralt slowly turned to face her. 

“Stop with the questions,” he snapped again. “We will just kill it and move on.”

There was the twitch again in her face, the light scrunch of her nose and the way her eyes pinched together. The elemental didn’t say anything, just followed him down the path until they noticed the entrance of a cave. 

It should have been easy ; kill the Pale Widow in her nest and leave. As soon as Geralt noticed the enormous centipede-like creature, he had drawn his silver sword and attacked it. Without thinking about it, certain it would be over and done with in just a few minutes. 

It wasn’t. 

The Pale Widow had heard him coming. The footsteps of the Witcher heavy and he hardly noticed he was making noise by rocks tumbling down everywhere with each step he took. He left a worried elemental behind him, but knew Eira was still close when the Pale Widow attacked first. 

There was a sound of roaring water that came their way and Geralt took a second to glance over his shoulder. There must be a stream inside the cave, and Eira had her hands raised in front of her, a look of determination on her face. 

The witcher was distracted. Not only was he slow due to his lack of sleep, but he kept his gaze on Eira too long. The Pale Widow struck him by the shoulder and he tumbled down the slope. The sting of pain was gone as fast as Geralt stood up again. 

Squinting his eyes, he searched the darkness for the beast. The roaring water closing in on them. 

“Geralt,” Eira spoke loud. “You’re too slow. Get out of the nest.”

Her voice was stern and he saw her standing a bit further. Still in the same position, but whatever she was doing, it took a lot of strength of her. Even from where the witcher stood, he could see the sweat drops that started to form on her forehead. 

He cursed loudly, shook his head and swung his sword around him. The monster had emerged out of the ground and towered over him, but the witcher was able to wound it. It wailed out of pain. It wasn’t dead yet and still had a fight in her. 

The monster lashed out. Geralt jumped out of the reach of her claws and tentacles. 

“Geralt! Get out!”

Eira’s worried voice reached his ears and he huffed angrily. He wasn’t too slow. This beast was stronger than he had thought. And he still had time. Whatever Eira was doing, the Witcher was sure the water was still far away. The rumbling did became louder, echoed against the walls of the cave and back to him. 

The monster might be strong, the Witcher was sure he was stronger. He swiveled around again on his heels, his silver sword ready to strike. The pale widow was faster, saw his attack coming and turned slightly. She used her tail to sweep him off his feet. He let go of his sword during his fall. 

Geralt fell and got the air knocked out of him. In the distance, he heard Eira curse and the sound of roaring water stopped abruptly. The magic that was laced in the air was gone and Geralt searched for his sword while he kept his gaze focused on the pale widow before him. 

The monster moved, saw its chance and bared its ugly fangs. The widow made a slithering sound and dove towards Geralt. Yet, a large rock covered in ice knocked it back. And a second rock hit the beast on its body, a third, a fourth…

In the meantime, the Earth started to tremble underneath them. Caughting the Pale Widow off guard and it wailed in pain when sharp, stone rocks grew out of the earth. It looked like sharp teeth shooting out of the Earth. Wounding the monster in the progress. 

The Witcher came to his senses. He grabbed his sword, thrusted forward and planted the weapon in the Pale Widow’s stomach. The scream that it let out was deafening and black, bloody goe spilled over Geralt. He pulled back with all the force he had in him and saw the monster fall down. 

“Are you insane?!” The shrill voice of Eira came from behind him and Geralt turned to face her. 

“Fuck off, Eira,” he snapped, saw that twitch in her face again, but also noticed her rage. 

“You could have died! Why are you so fucking reckless!”

“I wasn’t. I had it under control,” he lied and wiped his face with the back of his hand. “It wouldn’t have killed me.”

He already started walking towards the exit when he felt her hand on his shoulder. Geralt turned and glared at her. Only to be met with a furious glare of the elemental. 

“You aren’t immortal,” she snapped. “If I wasn’t here, the Widow would have killed you! And it’s just a Pale Widow!”

“If you weren’t here, I wouldn’t have been distracted,” he said angrily. “And I would have some peace!”

He finally knew what that twitch was in her features when Eira backed down from him. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t a tic. It was hurt. 

Geralt gritted his teeth together when the look of hurt on Eira’s face stayed there while she looked at him. He regretted his words. Part of him knew that she had been right. Because he was exhausted, he had behaved reckless. 

He felt the goe starting to cool down and Geralt slowly felt chilled to the bone. The Witcher’s gaze travelled back to Eira who shook her head slowly and started her way towards the exit. He sighed and felt a headache starting to form above his eyes.


	23. Bottled Appetites

Eira POV

She hadn’t replied to Geralt when he had told her about the Djinn. That there was a bottled Djinn somewhere in the little stream that they followed. Every few metres that they had walked, Geralt had stopped to start fishing with a small net. Every fishing spot, took hours to clean out , and Eira had been silently watching him. 

It was stupid. Yet, she didn’t dare to speak up anymore after the cave. The witcher had tried small talk in his own, grumpy way. The Elemental wouldn’t have it. Not when Geralt grew more reckless and put his own life at risk due to sleepiness. She asked more then one time what the reason of his sleepiness was and didn’t got an answer from the Witcher. 

“You can help, you know,” Geralt grumbled and turned to look at her. 

He stood in the knee high water with the net in his hands. Eira stretched her legs a bit and leaned back against the tree. 

“I can,” she admitted. “I won’t, though. Seeing that using a Djinn to cure your sleepiness is dangerous. The Djinn needs three wishes.”

He stared at her, but Eira stubbornly crossed her arms before her chest and answered his stare with one of her own. Her decision was made in this ; she wasn’t going to help. 

“Then why are you here for?” He asked with a light tinge of anger in his voice. 

“To try and keep you from killing yourself,” she snapped. 

Eira saw the Witcher shrug and go back to his fishing while Eira closed her eyes. She let her head rest against the tree and enjoyed the cool breeze that caressed her skin. 

Some hours must have passed and Eira felt herself doze off. When two hands came to rest on her shoulders, her eyes snapped open and Eira saw the Witcher still in the water. 

“Jaskier,” she whispered and glanced over her shoulder with a bright smile. 

The bard grinned widely, the corners of his eyes smiled with his mouth before he pressed a chaste kiss on the top of her head. In one swift movement he sat beside her and Eira felt her magic hum happily inside her. Especially when he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. 

“Found you,” he said happily and let his gaze travel over to Geralt. 

“What on Earth is he doing? Fishing?”

Eira sighed, an unhappy sound and her lips formed a tight line when she followed the bard’s gaze. 

“What’s wrong?” Jaskier asked, noticing her discomfort. 

“He can’t sleep,” she said. “He decided it would be a good idea to fish a Djinn out of the river and make a wish.”

Jaskier arched a brow and stood up to walk towards the water. 

“Geralt,” he said and the Witcher turned to face him. 

An annoyed look crossed Geralt’s face and he sighed that even Eira could hear. 

“Bard,” he said and turned to throw the net out again. “What do you want?”

“You think fishing for a Djinn is a good idea?”

“Yes,” was all Geralt said while pulling the net back in. 

“Why?”

“Because I can’t fucking sleep!” The witcher snarled and Jaskier glanced at Eira who had left her place by the tree. 

She knew this had the potential for a fight and went to touch Jaskier’s arm. 

“Leave it,” she murmured, “I tried. You can’t talk to him.”

“When can you talk to him?” Jaskier arched a brow. 

“He just says what’s on his mind without thinking, Jaskier,” Eira warned him. 

“Really?” Jaskier smirked. “Geralt, how do you find my singing?”

“Like a pie without filling,” the witcher replied without skipping a beat. 

Eira felt her eyes roll to the back of her head, heard Jaskier huff and puff and for the first time since she inhabited a human vessel, the Elemental knew what it was like to have a headache. 

“Geralt!” She spoke loud and got a surprised look of the witcher. 

Geralt just shrugged, threw the net out again and pulled it back. 

“Finally, I knew it was here somewhere,” the witcher murmured and came towards Eira. 

He lifted up an old jug and his lips twitched up slightly. 

“The Djinn,” he clarified as if Eira didn’t know what he meant. 

The Witcher’s fingers travelled towards the stoney cap, ready to open it when Jaskier suddenly sprung forward and put his hands around the jug. Eira took a surprised step forward to intervene when needed. 

“You don’t need a Djinn to help you sleep,” Jaskier said and Eira could see the worry written in his features. 

The laughter lines that normally decorated the cheerful bard were now replaced by worry and a tinge of fear. 

“Let go, Jaskier,” Geralt warned and pulled a bit at the jug. 

Only for Jaskier to pull at the jug himself. 

“No, I won’t let you do this. It’s dangerous.”

“Let go,” Geralt spoke again and put more strength when pulling the jug towards him. 

“Guys, stop,” Eira muttered and took another few steps closer to the two. 

Another pull from Jaskier’s side and both men were now shouting at each other. Eira was ready to intervene when it happened ; the cap shot off in the bard’s hands, a gust of wind travelled over them and the water. 

Eira focused, tried to see the Djinn that no doubt just escaped its stone prison. 

“I just wanted some bloody peace,” Geralt said, his gaze in the same direction of Eira. 

The grunts and hoarse moans reached Eira’s ears and she turns on her heels to the sound. Her eyes widened in horror, saw the blood that dripped of Jaskier’s throat and down on his white shirt. 

“Jaskier!” Her voice loud and high while she ran towards him. 

A thick lump formed in his throat and the bard’s eyes were panicked while his fingers claw at his neck. 

“Can’t breath,” he managed out before he fell on his knees. 

“Geralt,” Eira took Jaskier underneath his arms, but wasn’t strong enough to carry him. “Help.”

The Witcher didn’t hesitate and moved quite fast. 

“The Djinn did this. He needs a doctor. Preferable, one that uses magic.”

Eira couldn’t help the worry that filled her body and trembled slightly. 

“Where do we find one,” she mumbled and helped Geralt with supporting Jaskier. 

“I’ll carry him, Eira,” Geralt locked eyes with her. “We’ll find one. I know an Elf not far from here.”

They walked slowly. Geralt was able to help Jaskier along the way, but his ragged breathing send Eira into a fit of worry for his life. When they finally reached a campement and were led to the Elf Geralt talked about, the Elven man took one look at Jaskier’s throat and shook his head. 

“I can’t cure this. I don’t have enough power,” he admitted. “You need a sorceress or druid. He might die.”

Jaskier mumbled something they couldn’t understand and Geralt took one look into the fearful eyes of Eira. 

“We wouldn’t want that,” the witcher said matter of factly. 

“There’s a sorceress in the castle of the mayor,” the Elf spoke hurried while he touched Jaskier’s throat. 

The bard’s hand searched frantically for Eira’s and only calmed down when he found it. She kneeled before him and her fingers rested in his hair. His wide, blue eyes locked with hers and were full of fear for his life. 

“You’ll be fine. We’ll go to that sorceress,” she said. “You’ll be fine, okay?”

Jaskier nodded and Eira pressed a chased kiss on his forehead. Geralt grumbled, grabbed the bard underneath his arms and walked out of the tent. 

“Don’t worry, Eira,” he told her. “Jaskier will be cured.”

“If it wasn’t for your Djinn,” she snapped angrily, “he wouldn’t have to fight for his life.”

“A subject for another moment,” the witcher told her and guided them easily towards the mayor’s castle. 

Eira didn’t hold back when she saw the building, ran towards the door and knocked it hard and loud. She did, however, took a large step back when a short, naked man answered the door. A lazy grin on his face when he saw her. 

“The mistress of the house needs apple juice,” his voice sang and the elemental arched a brow. 

She sniffed the air around them, her magic instantly reacting on the illusion that surrounded the castle. A shroud of magic seemed to lay over it and she shortly glanced towards Geralt behind her. 

“She’s here,” was all he said and Eira didn’t doubt for a second when she passed the threshold of the castle.


	24. Yennefer of Vengerberg

Chapter 23

Yennefer of Vengerberg

Eira POV

They made their way through the castle and Eira was only vaguely aware of the soft music that echoed through the halls. The moans and grunts that came from one of the closed doors, made her hesitate to open one of them and she threw a look into Geralt’s direction. 

She arched a brow when Eira saw he held something in his free hand. The other supporting Jaskier who looked pale, but was still breathing and followed everything with his eyes. 

“What are you holding?” She asked. 

“Apple Juice,” he replied. “Open the door. And don’t get distracted by the illusion the sorceress might have spinned inside the chamber.”

It crossed her mind to ask where Geralt found the jug with apple juice, but Eira pushed the door open instead. 

Eira wanted to pinch her eyes shut when she saw the image unfolding before her. She stood frozen in the door opening while she felt how Geralt passed her by with Jaskier. Seemingly, the witcher was unbothered by the orgy that took place right before their eyes. 

Naked men and women, playing with each other lying down or sitting up. The heat that rose to Eira’s cheeks was undeniably too warm for her. 

“Eira,” Geralt called her back to reality and she cast her eyes down. 

“Coming,” she murmured and watched her feet move. 

The Witcher put Jaskier down on one of the coughes, next to a pair who were busy kissing and touching. Eira grabbed his hand gently and glanced at the woman all dressed in black. She sat at the front, her face covered halfly by a lace, black mask. 

Eira swallowed thickly. The magic that played around her was heavy and laced into her veins slowly. The elemental was sure that Geralt felt the same and he waited patiently for Eira to join him. 

“We’ll be right back,” she murmured to Jaskier and felt his hand tighten around hers for a moment. “You’ll be fine.”

The bard looked at her and Eira threw a quick look to his swollen throat. The large bump was now blue and purple. 

“The sorceress will heal you,” she promised before she released her hand out of Jaskier’s. 

Eira followed closely behind Geralt while they made their way to the woman who sat at the front. Her gaze still cast down as much as possible and she bumped against the Witcher’s back when he suddenly stopped in his tracks. An annoyed sigh of him reached Eira’s ears, but she couldn’t be bothered with his grumpiness. At least he was helping with Jaskier. 

“Your apple juice,” he spoke and held up the jug. 

The woman turned her head slightly to face them both and Eira thought she was stunning. The black hair was up, but the elemental could see it was quite long and thick. It were they eyes that stood out ; a dark purple looked back at her. 

The woman smirked before she stood up from her seat and strolled towards them. Elegance on high heels and Eira kept her gaze firmly planted on the sorceress. 

“Why are you here, Witcher?”

“I have someone who needs healing. Only a sorceress can do this.”

That’s when her eyes travelled over Eira and the elemental stood a bit straighter. 

“I feel magic that isn’t my own,” the woman spoke and slowly came to stand before Eira. 

The Sorceress was taller than the Elemental and looked down upon her. A curious glint in those beautiful, purple eyes. 

“Strong magic,” she concluded. “Why do you have need of me, Witcher, when you travel with … what are you?”

Eira arched a brow, glanced over her shoulder towards Jaskier and saw he was out of earshot. Geralt gently took hold of Eira’s arm and pulled her a bit closer to him. He shielded her with his body before he looked up at the woman. 

“She’s no sorceress,” Geralt concluded. 

“Then what is she?” 

“That is a subject for another time. How much will it cost to get the bard fixed?”

It was the first time the sorceress looked into Jaskier’s direction and walked over to him. A frown settled between her brows. 

“What did this?”

“A Djinn,” Eira replied before Geralt could. “He got attacked by a Djinn who was released.”

The sorceress looked at Eira as if she had said something utterly stupid, but her eyes cleared up in an instant when Geralt confirmed it. 

“Your bard,” she drawled and looked back at Jaskier who closed his eyes, “he’s in a bad shape. I’ll heal him.”

Eira felt a bit more relieved, until the sorceress looked straight at her again. 

“I need to know what you are,” she demanded. “That’s part of my price.”

Eira’s gaze flickered towards Jaskier who had his eyes still closed and the sorceress snapped impatiently with her fingers. 

“He can’t hear you,” she said. 

“An … Elemental,” Eira spoke fast and Geralt grumbled next to her. “I’m an Elemental.”

The woman’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. 

“A witcher and an elemental,” she cooed. “That’s something that I haven’t seen before. Aren’t you supposed to be all dead?”

“I’m … new,” Eira spoke hesitantly. “Will you cure him now?”

“Yes, the other part of payment is for your witcher,” the woman spoke matter of factly, waved her hand and the illusion and mind control that hung around them broke. 

The people around them all came to their senses, seemed horrified and cleared the room as fast as they could. Eira felt relieved and the sorceress chuckled while she took of her lace mask. 

“You’re young,” she stated, her long fingers came to rest onto Eira’s cheek. 

The elemental took a step back and couldn’t help notice the greedy tinge into the woman’s eyes. 

“But powerful,” the sorceress spoke with a smile. “And so… surprisingly human.”

“You promised to cure him,” Eira pushed impatiently and the sorceress grinned. 

“I did, didn’t I? Let’s bring him to a more comfortable chamber.”

“What’s your name?” Geralt asked. 

The woman smirked at both of them. 

“Yennefer of Vengerberg,” she said and waved her hand to follow her. “I would like to hear about your story, Witcher. How it is to travel with an Elemental and how you kept her hidden for so long.”

Geralt stopped in his tracks while he carried a sleeping Jaskier. 

“No one is to know about Eira,” he spoke harshly. “Or you won’t have my part of the payment.”

That amused Yennefer and scared Eira. 

“No,” Eira spoke hurriedly, “Jaskier needs to be helped.”

Yennefer glanced into the elemental her direction and nodded once at the witcher. 

“You have my word. The world doesn’t need the knowledge of an elemental.”

Eira swallowed hard, the witcher took a deep breath through his nose and Yennefer showed them the large chamber with a big bed. Geralt swiftly laid the bard down and looked at Jaskier. For the first time, Eira noticed a hint of worry in the witcher’s face. 

“You need to heal him,” Geralt spoke while Eira made her way to the other side of the bed. “The last words we spoke, weren’t our best.”

Yennefer watched how Eira kicked out her shoes and climbed on the bed. Her fingers laced into Jaskier’s hair lovingly. 

“I will heal him. You should clean up first. You stink, Witcher.”

Eira managed to hold her laugh by biting her tongue and locked eyes with Geralt. 

“I stay with him,” she said. 

Yennefer handed her clean clothes and pointed at the bowl with hot water that wasn’t there a moment ago. 

“Clean him up,” she demanded. “I will change and fresh up. I will be back later.”

Eira nodded and took the bundle of clothes from her. 

“Thank you,” the elemental spoke softly. 

“You care for the bard,” Yennefer stated. “Don’t thank me yet. A Djinn’s magic can be … tricky.”


	25. The Sorceress and the Elemental

Chapter 24

A/N : I cannot follow all of the storylines of Season I. This story isn’t all canon. I couldn’t wait to get to the part that Eira and Yennefer meet. Feel free to let me know what you think :) xoxo Aysline

The Sorceress and the Elemental -Eira’s POV

Jaskier hardly stirred while Eira took care of him. She used the soft towel that Yennefer gave her to gently clean his chest and throat. The white shirt the bard wore, Eira had to rip open and get off of him before she was able to let the towel roam over his arms. She made sure he was dried off before trying to get the new, clean shirt over his head. 

Eira cursed when she was unable to lift him far enough to pull the heavy cotton over his head. She eventually decided that the bard didn’t need a shirt if Yennefer would try to heal his throat soon. Her fingers travelled over his arms and collarbone. She hummed, almost silently and her gaze travelled to his face. 

Eyes closed, but a painful frown played between his brows and Jaskier’s lips were shut tight. Eira pressed a swift kiss on his forehead and wiped his hair a bit out of the way. 

“You’ll be fine,” she said again, not sure if she tried to convince him or herself. “You must.”

She moved from the bed to get his shoes and trousers. Eira worked quickly ; washed his legs and feet. This time, she was able to get the loose, white linen trousers on without a problem. The thick blanket of the bed covered him and Eira got rid of the dirty water. 

“There you are,” Yennefer’s voice startled the elemental in the long, dark corridor while she made her way back to the chamber where Jaskier was. 

Eira glanced at the sorceress and noticed she had changed her attire completely. The black dress was replaced by a beautiful white one that had a split running up her leg. It was quite high, stopped right under her thigh, yet revealed nothing. 

“I washed him,” Eira said while she walked over to Yennefer. 

The sorceress had a small smile around her lips and walked next to Eira. The candle Yennefer held, lit the way and caused shadows to play on the dark, stone walls. The elemental sniffed the air around them and arched a brow. Lilac and gooseberries filled the hallway which told her Yennefer must have bathed. 

“What kind are you?” 

Eira glanced sideways at Yennefer. 

“Ice,” was her short reply. 

“Can you control the others?”

“Yes,” Eira pushed the heavy door open when they arrived at the room. “Water and Earth.”

“No fire?”

Eira held still and turned to face the sorceress. 

“Of course not,” her voice stern, “I’m not an idiot. I can’t control fire. I won’t ever control it.”

“Why not?” Yennefer asked out of curiosity. “It’s the most powerful.”

Eira huffed and turned to sit on the side of the bed next to Jaskier. 

“It’s dangerous,” was all she replied and closed the subject. 

Uncomfortable to have the conversation when Jaskier was next to her. Even if he was in a deep slumber. 

“You promised to heal him,” Eira reminded Yennefer. 

“I did, didn’t I?”

Eira let her gaze follow the sorceress around the room. Her eyes followed Yennefer’s every movement and Eira made a mental note to not completely trust the woman. The way Yennefer smirked and had a greedy sparkly in her eyes, made Eira on edge. 

“Where’s Geralt?”

There was that half smirk again around the beautiful woman’s lips. 

“Resting,” was her short reply. “Now, let’s see what we can do for your bard. I can feel you care deeply for him.”

Eira looked away from her as soon as Yennefer’s gaze found hers. 

“I do,” she admitted because there was no point in denying something that was obvious. 

“I need you to wait outside. I have a room for you or you can dwell in the gardens. Do whatever an elemental does.”

“I want to see Geralt.”

“You can’t. He’s resting,” Yennefer told her sternly. 

“He has insomnia,” Eira snapped at her and stood up from the bed. “I doubt he’s sleeping.”

Yennefer kept her violet eyes on the elemental and shook her head slightly. 

“You have to trust me in this. The witcher fulfilled his part of the payment and he is fine. Now, leave before I lose my patience and decide to not heal your precious human.”

The Sorceress voice wasn’t angry nor cold towards Eira, yet the elemental felt like she just got scolded. 

“I’m stronger than you,” Eira told her with a warning in her voice. “You better heal him and have Geralt safe.”

Yennefer laughed out of amusement. 

“I’m older than you, little one,” she countered back. “You might be stronger, but I can cast a whole lot faster. Before you have bend the Earth or conjured Ice, I already have you bleeding out on the floor next to the bard. Think twice before you threaten me.”

The two women stared at each other. Waiting if the other would make a move, but it was Eira who stepped down. 

“Heal him and we’re out of your way by sunset,” she stated and threw the door shut behind her. 

She took a deep breath in to calm herself before Eira made her way through the dark hallway again. When she crossed a maid, the elemental stopped her. 

“I’m looking for Geralt of Rivia. Do you know where his room is?”

The young red head looked at her with big, green eyes. 

“I don’t know,” she said, fear in her voice and Eira let her arm go. 

“The witcher,” she clarified. “Did you see him?”

“I think he went towards the town after his bath with the mistress,” the woman said and Eira cursed lightly. 

“Thank you,” she quickly said and ran out of the small castle. 

It took her way too long to find Bramble and frowned when she noticed that Roach was still in the stables. She swiftly led her horse out in the open court and glanced up towards the window of the Jaskier’s bedroom. 

Flickering lights were seen and the shadow of the sorceress behind the window. Eira hated the fact she had to leave Jaskier, but she knew Yennefer of Vengerberg was the only one who would be able to heal him. 

It was still dark, yet on the horizon the sky already got lighter. Eira jumped on Bramble and led the horse towards the closest town, hoping she would find Geralt. She wondered why the hell the Witcher had left in the first place and had a bad feeling about the whole situation. Ever since they entered the castle and the first sight that Eira got, was a naked man who just participated in an orgy. One that Yennefer conjured up merely for her own entertainment. 

Eira shrugged the image off and rode into the silent town. A frown settled between her brows when she saw men lying around on the ground. Some moving, some not. She jumped off her horse and offered her help to one of them. 

“What happened?” She asked while she pulled a man onto his feet. 

He was wounded at his head, an open gap that bled way too hard to be healthy. The young man glanced at her, his eyes dazed over. 

“The witcher did this,” he murmured and Eira felt her eyes widen in shock. 

“The Witcher?” She asked again and got a nod from the man before he suddenly passed out. 

She had to let him fall because he was too heavy for her to carry. 

“What the fuck?” She muttered in the dark town to herself, wondering how she was going to find Geralt and what he was thinking when he knocked out half of this town.


	26. The Djinn

Chapter 25

The Djinn - Eira’s POV

She found Geralt after she spoke to one of the police officers Eira stumbled upon in the Inn. The Officer himself had a bruise underneath his left eye and could hardly open it properly. Eira had squinted slightly and pulled her nose up when he had told her that the Witcher had went on some kind of rampage. 

It didn’t sound as the Witcher she got to know. Geralt wasn’t one to attack people without given a reason and Eira had Blaviken clear in her mind in the moment the Officer told her everything. He had told her they were able to get the upper hand and threw Geralt behind bars to calm down. 

“Can you take me to him?” She asked, but got a firm shake of the head. 

“No, Miss,” he told her. “I can’t and won’t. That man is dangerous. Not safe for a lady like you.”

“I think I can be the judge of that,” Eira countered back. “He’s a friend. I want to see him.”

The man looked at her, his gaze travelled up and down a few times which made Eira quite uncomfortable. 

“Please, Sir,” she asked. “I truly need to speak to him.”

“No,” the man said. “He will face judgement in the morning.”

Eira huffed and wanted to threw a ball of ice in the man’s face and leave it bruised and swollen under his right eye too. She couldn’t blame him, though. By the looks of it, Geralt really did a number on this little town. 

The Elemental controlled her powers that hummed restless inside of her and went out of the Inn. The golden thread that connected the Elemental with the Witcher glew brightly and Eira followed it with haste. 

It led her straight to the old prison where Geralt was being kept. Eira looked at the building and shrugged to herself. If the witcher had wanted too, he would be able to break out of it without too much problems. 

The door was open and Eira entered to face another officer who sat on a chair. His eyes were closed and the loud snoring told the elemental he was asleep. A glance to her right told her the Witcher was surely here ; his two swords and bag stood aside against the far wall. She could walk straight in and followed the thread towards the cell where Geralt sat. 

He had his eyes closed, legs crossed and hands rested on his knees. 

“Eira,” he murmured and opened his eyes slowly to lock eyes with her. 

Her fingers circled around the bars and Eira shook her head slowly when she saw a few cuts and bruises on his face. They were already healing, but still visible. 

“What happened?” She asked, worried laced in her voice. “I saw the mayhem in town.”

The witcher slowly got up, stretched his arms and legs before he walked towards the bars. 

“Magic,” he growled. “She used a spell on me.”

His eyes widened and Eira shook her head confused. As if Geralt just figured out what happened to him and had awoken from a spell. 

“You didn’t know?” She asked and her fingers investigated the bars while her gaze kept frozen on the Witcher’s face. 

“No,” he told her firmly and looked at what she was doing. “She wants the Djinn.”

“She’s with Jaskier,” Eira said hurriedly, worry flickered up inside her. “We have to get back.”

She grit her teeth, grabbed the bars real tight and let her magic flow through her hands. It took little effort to freeze the iron and Geralt kept a close eye on her face while Eira did it. 

“It should break,” she murmured when the dark iron was coloured a bright white. Frost set on it and her gaze flickered up to meet Geralt’s. 

“Your turn,” she said and took a step back. 

The witcher nodded once and grabbed the bars. With one pull, the iron broke in his hand, shattered in a thousand pieces and fell on the floor. He repeated to movement until the hole was large enough he could walk through it. 

“I saw your weapons when I came in,” Eira said and was already on her way. “I knew there was something about Yennefer.”

“She’s a sorceress,” Geralt mumbled and swiftly took his swords without stopping, “she wants power.”

Eira huffed angrily and led him towards Bramble. The sun peeped through the trees and Geralt grabbed her by the shoulder to face him. 

“Jaskier is going to be alright. She’ll heal him.”

“I hope for her that is the case, yes,” Eira retorted back. “Sorceress or not, I can easily drown her is something happened to him.”

Geralt didn’t even roll his eyes this time, instead he jumped on the horse and offered her his hand. 

“Let’s go get him,” he said softly and his gaze locked with hers. 

Eira took his hand and let the witcher pull her up. Her arms circled around his waist and she rested her forehead against his back when Geralt gave the horse the command to run. Again, her magic hummed peacefully inside her being reunited with the witcher. 

When they finally arrived at the castle, daybreak broke and Eira was the first to jump of the horse. A loud scream startled both the elemental and the witcher. Both heads snapped up into the direction of the wail and rested on the window of Jaskier’s room. 

With wide eyes, Eira saw light flashes and shadows playing behind the glass and balled her fists. 

“Jaskier,” she whispered and took a step forward. 

Geralt gently grabbed her elbow and pulled her back. 

“A Djinn is dangerous,” he warned. “Not even your magic will hurt it.”

“She has Jaskier,” she said while her eyes found his. 

“No, the crazy bitch doesn’t have Jaskier,” a familiar voice came from behind her and Eira swivelled around on her heels; 

A ragged breath escaped her when Jaskier tumbled towards them. His throat looked completely healed and his blue eyes bright. Geralt let his hand slip from Eira’s elbow when she swiftly ran towards the bard. 

“I’m fine,” Jaskier smiled sincere, his eyes sparkled when Eira fell into his arms. “Like you said.”

She didn’t speak up, only held him close and rested her head against his chest. The elemental heard the serene beating of his heart and moved her head slightly so she could meet his gaze. 

Jaskier caressed her hair with his hands before he took her face in both of his hands. He kissed her on the lips before the sound of heavy footsteps made them both return to reality. 

“Where are you going?” Jaskier asked Geralt while he let Eira go. 

“Going to help Yennefer,” the witcher stated. 

“What? No, she wants to control the Djinn! She’s crazy, Geralt.”

“She saved you. I can’t just let her die,” Geralt spoke and didn’t even look back when he entered the castle. 

“Is he crazy?”

Eira shrugged, but her features were filled with worry. 

“Maybe,” she responded and felt Jaskier’s hand reach for hers. 

She entwined their fingers and felt the bard’s eyes on her. 

“What did Geralt mean with your magic?”

The question seemed to knock the air out of her and Eira didn’t dare to look at him. 

“Eira,” Jaskier urged and took her by the shoulders so she had to look at him. “Whatever it is, it’s fine. I mean, I know you’re a bit different. I mean that in a good way, just so you know,” he rattled on. 

Eira felt doubt creeping inside her and the words got stuck in her throat. She couldn't help the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. 

“You will never talk to me again,” she said hesitantly. 

Jaskier smiled and took her face in his hands again. 

“I sincerely doubt that,” he pressed a kiss on her forehead. 

The loud sound of rumbling that came from the inside of the castle, made them both jump back. Stones flew everywhere when a part of the building came down before their eyes. 

“Geralt!”

Both their voices echoed through the rumble and Eira trembled on her legs. 

“No,” she muttered. “No, no, he can’t be in there.”

She stared at the rumble of stones and swallowed hard. 

“Jaskier,” she whispered scared, “Geralt?”

The bard didn’t answer, instead he swallowed thickly and let go of her to take a look around the castle. Eira swiftly closed her eyes, felt the sparkling, golden magical thread weave before her. It didn’t hesitate, nor did it flicker. 

“He’s still alive,” she said loudly, causing Jaskier to glance over his shoulder to her in surprise. 

He stood by a window with a lazy smirk on his face. 

“Yes, he is,” he confirmed. “Very much so. So is Yennefer.”

Eira arched a brow and ran towards Jaskier to glance inside the building. Or what was left of it. 

“Oh,” she gasped when she saw the witcher and the sorceress kissing. Their limbs entwined and hands grabbing everywhere. “Oh,” was all Eira said again and felt her cheeks heat up. 

She looked away quickly and pulled Jaskier with her. 

“How did you know he was alive?”

Eira shut her eyes for a few seconds and bit her bottom lip. 

“Eira?” Jaskier asked softly. 

When she opened her eyes again, the bard stood before her. With his beautiful eyes on her face, his gentle hands resting on her shoulders and Eira her heartbeat sped up. 

“I’m an elemental,” she spoke silently.


	27. Crumbling

Chapter 26 : Crumbling

Eira’s POV

It had been months since she had spoken the confession to Jaskier. Eira had waited outside that castle on a reaction of the bard. 

A reaction that didn’t came. 

He stood motionless and stared at her silently for quite a while. Before Jaskier had turned around and left her next to the crumbling building. Eira stood alone and stared at his retreating silhouette. Not only the castle next to her was crumbling into pieces, something inside her broke with watching the bard leave. 

“Stupid question,” Yennefer’s voice came, “what made you think he could handle the fact you’re an elemental? He’s a bard.”

Eira grit her teeth and her fingernails were pushing into her hand palms. 

“He had heard …”

“Ah,” Yennefer shrugged and came to stand beside Eira. “You could easily lied to him again.”

“I never lied,” Eira defended herself in a whisper. 

“Hiding something is equal to lying, little one.”

The sorceress’ voice wasn’t maleficent, nor was it cold and Eira glanced up at Yennefer. The woman even smiled faintly at her. 

“You don’t need him,” she said before Yennefer walked away. “You don’t need anyone.”

“Where’s Geralt?” Eira shouted before the sorceress disappeared completely. 

“Sleeping.”

She was gone the next second through a portal Yennefer had summoned. Leaving Eira alone, standing before the broken castle. 

It took hours before the Witcher woke up and walked over to the elemental. Eira sat on one of the rocks, staring towards the road while her head rested in her hands. Maybe Jaskier would come back and talk to her? Maybe he would at least say something. 

“Where’s the bard?” Geralt asked from behind her. 

Eira glanced over her shoulder and shook her head. 

“Gone,” she whispered, keeping her voice as silent as possible because she knew it would break otherwise. 

“Already? Normally, the bard makes a grand gesture when he has to leave.”

Eira stood up and stared at the road again. 

“No, Geralt,” she spoke softly, “I mean that he’s gone.”

She was met with silence for some time before the witcher’s heavy, gloved hand came to rest on the small of her back. Eira dropped her head, faced the ground before she closed her eyes. She didn’t want to cry, yet the sobs escaped her throat anyway. 

“It’s okay, Eira,” Geralt murmured. “He’ll be back.”

Yet, months and months later, Jaskier didn’t come back. At first, Eira kept a lookout at the horizon when she travelled with the witcher. To see if the bard’s silhouette would appear. At night, she found herself roaming around again without getting any sleep. 

Geralt kept a close eye on her and didn’t speak ill of the bard. He didn’t even mention the bard’s name nor something that had to do with him. The witcher tried small talk, took her to fight monsters or went to Inn’s to play a round of Gwent. Eira knew Geralt was trying to get her to think about something else than Jaskier. 

After a while, the elemental stopped looking behind her shoulder to see if the bard would be there. She gave up entirely that Jaskier would ever be back to talk to her. It broke something deep inside her, but Eira kept moving and following the Witcher. 

They took on a lot of contracts and collected loads of coins. Her powers grew because she used them so much. 

Geralt learned her to meditate. It took her a few weeks to really learn and appreciate it, but soon , they spend their evenings and half of the night, sitting next to each other with their eyes closed. 

The elemental got to know every sound of the forest or small villages. To know what animal passed or jumped by without having her eyes open. The scents around them penetrated her nose more clearly and Eira felt calm every time she meditated. 

She never forgot about Jaskier. He was always at the back of her mind and the elemental got angry with him. 

“You need to understand,” Geralt started one evening at the campfire, “that Jaskier will need time.”

“You told me to not tell him,” Eira murmured, gaze on the flames before her. “You warned me.”

Geralt turned to face her slightly. 

“He must realize you’re not a Black Elemental,” he grumbled. “He’s stupid.”

“Does he even know that not Elementals were evil?”

“He studied at Oxenfurt. He knows his history.”

That made Eira feel even worse inside, but she refused to shed one more tear over the bard. 

Not alone

Eira snapped her head up and looked to Geralt. 

“Did you say something?”

The witcher frowned and shook his head while proceeding to poke the fire. 

“No,” he replied, “you need sleep.”

“I’m fi…”

“Eira,” Geralt locked eyes with her, his features stern and his mouth in a tight line. “You need sleep.”

She wanted to argue, yet felt how tired her vessel was. 

“Ok,” she admitted, feeling like a child who just got scolded. “I’ll sleep.”

“Stay close,” Geralt spoke when she stood up. “I don’t like the scent that lingers here.”

Eira sniffed the air, shrugged slightly before she wandered into the woods. 

“I won’t,’ she shouted over her shoulder and found a peaceful place to sleep under a large oak tree. 

Falling asleep was easy, waking up … wasn’t. 

At first it started in the distance, a far away wail or cry that Eira hardly noticed in her slumber. Her nose twitched, a mosquito zoomed close to her ear and the elemental turned on her other side and slept solid again. 

“Eira,” a whisper through the forest. 

The elemental frowned in her sleep, her fingers dug into the grass underneath her. 

“Eira!”

More urgent this time and Eira turned around in her sleep. 

“Eira! Wake the fuck up!”

Her eyes snap open the moment a mouth with sharp fangs lingered before her face. The elemental gasped, threw her arms before her face out of defence and ground herself for the attack. 

It never came, instead a loud, high scream filled the forest when the Witcher pulled the wild woman away from Eira. With one arm movement, Geralt threw her a few feet away of them. 

Eira crawled up, all sleep gone from her mind and stared wide eyed at the woman who jumped up in one, swift movement. 

“What is that?”

Eira took a small step back when she saw how the woman-monster bared her fangs and hissed at both of them. The Witcher pulled his silver sword and pushed Eira a bit more behind him. 

“Bruxa,” he said. “A vampire.”


	28. The Bruxa

Chapter 27 - The Bruxa

Eira’s POV

One moment, both Geralt and Eira stared at the vampire before them, the next second, the Bruxa disappeared before their eyes. Eira moved a bit to the front towards Geralt. Yet, the Witcher quickly stretched his arm to hold the Elemental behind him. 

“Where is she?”

Geralt looked around, turned his head slightly to the left and his free hand grabbed Eira by the hip. He pushed her even more back while his silver sword was stretched out before him. 

“Invisible,” he replied, and Eira now realized he was trying to listen where the Bruxa was. 

“What element?” She quickly asked and stayed behind the Witcher. 

Never before, Geralt had taken the action of a protective stance over the Elemental. Knowing full well, Eira could handle her own. The mere fact that the Witcher did it now, made Eira highly uncomfortable. 

“None,” Geralt said and turned a bit when a gust of wind let his hair move slightly. “She’ll attack at random, swift strikes. We need to take her out when she turns visible.”

For the first time since they travelled together, Eira felt useless and her magic hummed dangerously inside her due to the proximity of a strong foe. 

“I need a weapon,” she murmured and turned swiftly around when a branch cracked behind her. 

The Elemental and the witcher stood back to back when Geralt’s hand found hers. Eira frowned and looked down ; a small, silver dagger rested in the palm of her hand. 

“All I have,” the Witcher grumbled, but Eira eagerly took the small weapon. 

The wind around them picked up speed, the sound of branches moving became louder and the cracking of dead leaves on the ground made Eira snap her head up. 

“Here she comes,” Geralt warned her. “Stay close, Eira.”

She slightly pushed herself a bit more against his back for safety, not knowing what to expect from this fight. 

At first, the scream came ; it filled the air and was painful to her ears. Eira’s magic reacted out of instinct and her hands turned white from ice. The sparkling, golden thread that bound Geralt and her, flickered and moved around both of them. Joining them by the hips in an invisible barrier against the Bruxa. 

Eira caught the movement from the corner of her eyes just in time. 

“Right,” she said loud enough for Geralt to hear. 

They moved together and at the same time to their right. The vampire appeared, fangs bared and only now, Eira saw the woman was completely naked. Fingernails long and sharp. 

Geralt swung his sword once. Then again, but the monster jumped out of the way easily. The Bruxa was fast. Too fast. Eira was hardly able to see her move and it just looked like tiny flashes to the elemental’s eyes. 

The dagger in her hand, ice ready to strike when needed though Geralt shook his head. 

“It isn’t going to work,” he said, not unkindly yet rushed. “I need to be able to strike her.”

Eira bit her bottom lip.

“You need a distraction,” she muttered silently and Geralt’s head whipped into her direction. 

“No,” was his short reaction before his sword flashed again. 

The wail of the Bruxa was one out of frustration, not pain. Geralt missed her by a hair and she disappeared again. 

“Fuck,” he cursed and Eira’s eyes wildly scanned the area. 

“Let me help,” she said and moved a bit further. 

The Witcher’s hand circled around her wrist and pulled Eira back. 

“No, it’s dangerous.” 

Eira locked eyes with him and saw the worry written in them. She smiled faintly, tried her best to make the smile look confident. 

“It’ll be fine,” she said. “I can run fast.”

“No, you can’t,” he stated bluntly and his grip on her wrist increased slightly. 

“Geralt,” Eira spoke up, felt the air move around them and pulled herself loose. 

There wasn’t any time to doubt. The vampire moved around them in circles, closing them in and Eira moved fast. 

She started running, away from Geralt and into the direction of the road instead of the forest. The dagger in her hand moved to her free hand palm and she cut her skin. Eira pulled up her nose when she felt the sharp pain, but closed her hand to let the blood stream down and onto the ground beneath her. 

When she glanced over her shoulder, Eira couldn’t see the Bruxa following her. Yet, she felt as if something was breathing down her neck. The hair on her arms went up, goosebumps formed everywhere over her skin when cold, large hands grabbed her by the shoulders from behind. 

She was pushed to the ground. Hitting her elbows and knees hard. Quickly, Eira turned on her back and saw the vampire linger above her. The monster hummed happily, sniffed the air and her dark eyes flickered to the wound on Eira’s hand. 

The Earth moved around them, trembled in unison with Eira’s fear. Yet, the Bruxa didn’t even react on the display of the Elemental’s magic. Instead, licked her lips and swiftly bowed towards Eira. 

“Fuck off,” Geralt grumbled impatiently from behind and Eira closed her eyes when the sickening sound of silver touching the vampire’s flesh reached her ears. 

The sweet and puny smell of decay made Eira gag and when she opened her eyes again, she saw the Bruxa lying on the ground. Eyes wide open, fangs retracted and dark blood around her. 

A nervous chuckle left her throat before she was pulled up underneath her arms by Geralt. 

“Can’t believe it worked,” she managed the breathe out and locked out with the witcher. 

Who glared at her out of anger. 

“Are you fucking insane?”

Eira took a step back when she heard the anger in his voice. 

“It worked. We had to do something,” she tried to counter back, but Geralt took her by the arms and pulled her so close Eira could feel his breath tickling her cheeks. 

“It was reckless,” he stated calmly and let her go. 

His gaze flickered to her hand and Geralt rolled his eyes. 

“I had the best teacher,” she replied and deserved a blunt stare with the comment. 

“Fuck,” Geralt muttered and went back to the campfire, not bothering with searching the Bruxa for loot. 

Eira followed silently and when he motioned for her to sit, the elemental obeyed silently. 

“I’m not a child,” she spoke when Geralt started to take care of the cut in her hand. 

“Don’t act like one, then,” he grunted. 

‘What an ass.’

The same distant voice Eira heard before echoed in her mind and she blinked her eyes a few time. Geralt’s lips hadn’t moved and Eira shook her head slightly. 

“What’s wrong? It hurts to get it clean,” Geralt spoke and must have seen her temporarily confusion. 

“Nothing,” Eira quickly said, sure that he would think her insane. 

She looked around them and saw or felt nothing. Geralt looked calm while taking care of her hand, so Eira shouldn’t be alarmed. Yet, she was. Something made the hair in her neck stand up again. Like someone tried to reach her by softly running fingers over her skin.


	29. Oxenfurt

Chapter 28  
Oxenfurt - Jaskier’s POV

The city was bubbling with students for the new Academic year. All dressed colourful and with hope written on their faces. 

Jaskier could easily tell who just started their studies and who didn’t. The fresh badge of students, probably coming from all corners of the world, had no worries and almost danced into the large, wooden library. Once in a while, he heard the librarian scold them for being so loud. The bard didn’t mind ; it seemed so long ago that he didn’t have a care in the world like them. 

He wasn’t in Oxenfurt for a study. He had graduated years ago and had his fun. Jaskier travelled to Oxenfurt months ago for their large collection of history books. He had his own reading table on the second floor right by the stairs. Normally, a quiet little place and Jaskier could look down from the railing to the first floor. He had forgotten how beautiful Oxenfurt’s library truly was. 

Today, it was loud because everyone needed to find their books for the year and Jaskier had a hard time focusing. It didn’t bother him at all, but the book in front of him was boring and it seemed he couldn’t really focus on the lecture. It was about Warfare History and he had skipped all the chapters until he had found the chapter on Magic. 

With a frustrated sigh, he threw the book closed when the whole chapter had no mention of Elementals at all. He had almost read every book about magic and they hardly mentioned Elementals. The only luck he had was with one book completely dedicated to their history. The bard had read it in two days and nights. The information in it, wasn’t comforting. It was all about Black Elementals and how they were out to destroy the human race. How the Witchers had to make a pact with the sorceresses and fought them together. Still, they weren’t strong enough for the fire that the Elementals used. 

Thousands perished in the war. Witchers, humans and sorceresses. Jaskier read the small part about the white Elementals with much attention a few times. How they had to bound themselves to a Witcher and never used the element of Fire. How they had to take human vessels to control their powers. 

The War was won by the White elementals with their Witcher by their side. Yet, the problems didn’t stop there. Some of the White turned against their witcher over time or the humans and witchers couldn’t seem to trust the elementals completely after the carnage their species did to them. 

After some time, the Elementals were cut loose by the Witchers. Leaving their vessel surely meant a certain death by cutting the bond they had with their warrior witcher. Most of them didn’t survive, the ones who did, disappeared and the Elementals were thought to be extinct. 

Jaskier had thought long and hard about this information and felt uncomfortable. He had remembered how scared Eira had looked when she finally told him what she was. How her hands had trembled and her blue eyes looked up at him. Jaskier swallowed hard by the thought of their last moments together. 

He had left her standing by the castle and alone. He couldn’t grasp what she told him. The fact that Eira, sweet and innocent, was an Elemental. Jaskier had learned his history, he loved history!, and knew exactly what an Elemental was. The bard got scared and left the young woman without being able to say another word. 

It hurt his head when he thought about their last moments. A part of it was guilt. He had promised she wouldn’t be alone no more. Yet, that was when he thought she was a human. Not some destructive power that could wipe out half of humanity. Jaskier had trouble imagining that Eira would be capable of doing that. 

“You look troubled, Jaskier,” the gentle voice of the librarian came from behind him. 

He turned slightly to face the beautiful, black haired woman. 

“I am troubled, Katharina,” he told her honestly and felt her hands rest on his shoulders. 

Jaskier closed his eyes underneath her touch. 

“You looked troubled since you arrived back in Oxenfurt seven months ago,” she murmured and rested her head lovingly on his hair. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He reached for her hand and took it in his. 

“No,” he replied, his happy tune in his voice long gone. “You can’t.”

She hummed and Jaskier felt her move behind him. Katharina walked around him and jumped to sit on the table before him. She moved her legs slightly and slid onto his lap so she cradled him. Jaskier looked up at her and his hands came to rest loosely on her hips. Dark, brown eyes stared playfully back at him and the bard felt another pang of guilt that rushed through him. 

“Do you think one race can all be evil?”

Katharine arched a brow and leaned a bit back. 

“Are all humans evil?” She countered back. 

“No,” Jaskier replied and felt her fingers starting to play with the buttons of his vest. 

“I don’t think a whole race can be evil or good. Just like humans. Why do you ask?”

Jaskier shrugged, felt her playful fingers come to rest in his neck and he took a deep breath in when Katharina pressed a wet kiss in his neck. 

“I need to get back to work and keep the students in line,” she murmured against his skin, “I will see you at home.”

Jaskier offered her a forced smile and a nod when Katharina jumped from his lap and went on to shouting at some youngsters. He knew the young librarian since they went here to the Academy together and Katharine had offered him one of her spare rooms when Jaskier arrived here. 

Her presence was comforting in the beginning. Katharina was beautiful to look at and easy to talk too. Yet, Jaskier couldn’t help to want to kiss Eira instead. To let his fingers travel over Eira’s soft skin and play with her hair. 

The bard rubbed his eyes and felt tired all of a sudden. He didn’t want to be in Oxenfurt. He didn’t want all this information that only told him Eira was evil. Also, he didn’t want to believe that Geralt would trust a Black Elemental. The Witcher clearly trusted the woman that travelled with him. So much even, that he allowed her to fight by his side. 

‘Are all humans evil,’ Katharina’s voice echoed in Jaskier’s mind.

He needed an explanation. After months of research, the bard wasn’t much wiser. He deserved an explanation and why she had hidden this from him. Because a part of him was angry with Eira. Angry for lying to him. Angry for making him miss her like he did now. Angry because Jaskier was falling in love with her. 

“I’m not coming home,” he spoke without thinking. “I’m leaving.”

Katharina glanced at him with a frown and then laughed dryly. 

“No, you aren’t, right?”

“I’m sorry,” he stood up and took the history book underneath his arm. “I need to go.”

“Jaskier?” Katharina followed him. “I thought you would stay here in Oxenfurt?”

“I never said that, Katharina,” his voice friendly and the woman grabbed him by the elbow before he could walk off the stairs. 

“No, but you made me think it,” she said. “Just like you did all those years ago.” Her voice changed from happy and gentle to urgent and hurt. 

Jaskier looked at her and shook his head. His features stern and the bard looked so much older all of a sudden. 

“I told you the truth when I got here,” he said. “I was never going to stay in Oxenfurt.”

Katharina nodded slowly and let go of him. 

“I had hope,” she told him and Jaskier cradled her face in both of his hands. 

“You’re lovely and kind,” he told her friendly with a smile. “Katharina, you deserve to be happy. Get out of Oxenfurt and go see the world. Be the Poet you wanted to be instead of a librarian stuck here.”

“I was happy with you,” she countered back and Jaskier sighed. 

“I have to go,” and he turned on his heels to leave Katharina and Oxenfurt behind him.


	30. Voices

Chapter 29   
Voices - Geralt’s POV

The cut in her hand palm was almost completely healed after two weeks. Geralt took it upon himself to take care of the wound and cleaned it every evening when they stopped for the night. Mostly, they both sat in a comfortable silence next to each other. The Witcher wasn’t one with many words and the Elemental mostly starred in the distance to nothing in particular. 

He had noticed the distant gaze in those blue eyes of hers and Eira herself seemed to grow more isolated. At first, Geralt thought it was because of Jaskier. Although, the witcher was still certain the bard’s leaving still had an effect on the elemental, it seemed something else was bothering her. 

Sometimes, her head suddenly turned into a direction as if she heard something. Something that Geralt didn’t or couldn’t hear. Once in a while the Elemental even asked if he said something and Geralt always frowned while he shook his head. 

The Witcher became worried. It wasn’t in his nature, but he did care about the woman who travelled with him. The way her skin turned sickenly pale and she refused food more and more. A game of Gwent wasn’t in the cards anymore ; Eira denied any competition. Even in Inns and Taverns, the elemental just sat in a corner and stared in front of her. A game that she used to play with joy and started to get good at. 

When Eira refused bread and ale one evening in an Inn, Geralt rubbed his eyes before he spoke up. 

“You need to eat, Eira,” he told her. “You look sick.”

Eira had looked at him with that distant gaze she had the last few weeks. 

“I’m not hungry. And I can’t get sick, remember?”

He grumbled and grunted at her response, but stuck out a piece of bread anyway. 

“I know, but your vessel needs nutrition or it dies,” he stated bluntly, not even trying to spare her feelings with his remark. 

The truth had to be said ; Eira would die if she kept going like this. 

“When was the last time you slept?”

Again, her gaze locked with his and this time it seemed Eira truly saw Geralt sitting in front of her. 

“Two or three weeks,” she said silently, “I lost count.”

Geralt threw the bread in the plate again. 

“What’s wrong? You need to take care of your vessel,” he said. 

A huff escaped her chapped lips and, to his frustration, Eira looked away again. Her long, blonde hair was braided together and had dirt in it. Her nails were dark and unclean. The red flush that usually played on her cheeks completely gone. 

He hated it. He loathed the person who sat before him because she made him miss the chatty and cheerful Elemental. 

“You eat,” he stated and stood up. “Or you won’t travel with me no more.”

That got her attention and her gaze flickered to meet his. There was a hint of fear in them. 

“If your vessel dies, you most probably won’t survive,” Geralt said and threw some coin on the table for the food. “Make your choice. A bard isn’t worth all of this. Nobody is.”

“You think this is about Jaskier?”

For the first time, there was genuine reaction from Eira towards him and Geralt saw the frown between her brows. 

“Then what is it, Eira? I want to help. You won’t let me.”

The elemental swallowed thickly and Geralt went to sit next to her instead of opposite. Their elbows touched and Eira looked away again. 

“You’ll think I’m going crazy,” she finally spoke after minutes of silence. 

“I met a lot of crazy people,” he started. “None of them realised they were actually crazy.”

A dry chuckle reached his ears and Eira turned her head slightly to face him sideways. Geralt took a deep breath through his nose and rolled his eyes. 

“You can trust me, Eira,” he said and even felt himself smile when she offered him one. 

“I hear voices, Geralt,” she whispered and his eyes widened. “All the time. They speak to me during the day and night. They never stop. They just keep talking and talking.”

Geralt leaned a bit closer to her and studied her scared face. 

“What do they say?”

She shrugged when he rested his hand on her shoulder. 

“I can’t understand most of it,” she admitted. “It are ramblings. Nothing makes sense, but the voices are always there. I’m so , so tired.”

Then, it happened. Something Geralt loathed and hated to see ; Eira started crying. At first, it came as a silent sob and he could see Eira tried to hold back the tears. They did came eventually and he did the only thing he could ; The Witcher pulled her close against him in an embrace. 

“I believe you,” he murmured and ran his fingers through her long, knotted hair. 

There wasn’t a reason he could think of to not believe the elemental. He pushed her a bit of him, uncomfortable by the embrace. 

“We’ll find a solution and who is doing this to you,” he spoke and stuck up his hand to the waitor. “For now, you need to eat and sleep.”

“I can’t sleep,” she countered back silently. “They’re too loud.”

“We’ll numb them.”

He deserved a questionable look from her and Geralt felt the corner of his lips curl up in a smirk. 

“Bottle of mead,” he told the good man of the Inn. “Make that two.”

Eira still didn’t understand, but after an hour, she was drunk for the first time in her life. The smile was back, the blush on her cheeks present and she ate without worries. 

“Do you still hear them?” Geralt asked after some time. 

“Yesh,” she slurred and took another gulp of her glass. “But far away.”

He chuckled when her eyes turned a bit and saw her eat the bread and meat. 

For some time, he wasn’t really paying attention to her. He could hear her hum songs like Toss a coin to your Witcher and the Fishmonger’s daughter. Instead, the Witcher started to clean his sword until he felt Eira’s head resting on his shoulder. When he glanced down, he saw a peaceful look on her face and soft snoring reached his ears. 

The Inn owner walked over to them and Geralt carefully moved to throw him some coin. 

“A room. I will bring her up.”

The man nodded, took the coin and threw him a key. 

After he laid her on the bed, took off her shoes and put her on her side, Geralt blew out the candle and left the Inn. 

The voices Eira heard worried him behind words and it plagued his mind. He never heard of anything like that, except for humans that went crazy, and it didn’t help that no one knew anything about Elementals. Except for their killing spree they went on in the past. 

The Witcher looked to the North and closed his eyes to take a deep breath in. Maybe it was time to go back home again. Home...Vesimir could probably help or guide him into the right direction. Kaer Mohren was at least a month’s travel away, but Geralt needed to find help for Eira. 

Because deep inside him, though he cared for the Elemental and trusted her, he feared for her. It was known that Elementals could switch sides in a second. 

Geralt made the decision to start their journey to Kaer Mohren once Eira woke up. And a mental note to punch the bard if he ever showed his face again. Even if Jaskier wasn’t around, Eira hummed the bard’s songs and it annoyed the witcher.


	31. Kaer Mohren

Chapter 30

Eira’s POV - Kaer Mohren

The road to Kaer Mohren was long and tiresome. Eira was sure that if she went alone, she would get lost. Geralt guided them easily on the trail towards the old keep. The elemental followed without thinking. She couldn’t think. The voice was loud and she felt exhausted. 

‘I’m here to stay’ ‘I won’t go’ ‘You think we’re many, but I’m just one’

The voice was chaotic in her mind. A constant loud noise that Eira could’t get rid off. She had told Geralt days ago that the voice knew where they were going and what they wanted to do. It was right after the Inn that the voice grew venomous and pounded even louder through her head. 

‘You’re weak’ ‘You like humans’ ‘They’re nothing’ 

It made her cry more than once during the past weeks and Eira felt how her powers drained from her because she was getting frail. The closer they came to Kaer Mohren, the worse the voice got. 

‘Even the bard left you’ ‘You’re so emotional’ ‘What happened to you that you’re like this’

Eira suddenly screamed ; a loud, agonizing sound echoed through the forest and the Witcher path they were on. Bramble stopped abruptly, the horse in a slight panic and started to trample backwards while the Elemental held her hands before her ears. 

“Stop!” 

Geralt must have jumped of his horse and Eira could barely see how he grabbed Bramble to calm the horse down. 

“Eira,” he tried, but she shook her head and closed her eyes. 

Her hands pushing hard against her ears and she would have cried if she had any tears left. 

“Make it stop,” she sobbed and felt Geralt’s hands around her waist. 

He carefully took her off Bramble and put her down on her feet before him. His hands came to rest on hers, both cradling her head and Eira opened her eyes to look at him. 

“We’re almost there,” he said. 

The Elemental could hear in the tune of his voice that he was worried. 

‘He isn’t worried’ ‘He just doesn’t want you to flip out’ ‘You can kill everyone if you do’ ‘He knows that’

“Eira,” Geralt urged her to keep looking at him. “Only listen to me. We will get to Kaer Mohren and find help.” 

She trembled and shivered because Eira felt cold. A feeling she never thought to have. Her magic hummed impatiently and chaotically inside her. As if it wanted to burst out and unleash the three elements all at once. Her hands flickered from the ice particles that formed and went away again. If they passed a river or lake, the water fervently started to wave. The earth trembled underneath their feet more than once, as it did now. 

The Elemental took a deep breath through her nose and tried to push back the loud, booming voice in her head. Her gaze focused on the ember eyes of the witcher before her, the touch of his hands on hers and Eira finally took control again. The voice died down… for now. They both knew it wouldn’t be for a long time. 

She nodded slowly and Geralt dropped his hands. Without lingering about, the witcher took her bag from Bramble and tied it with his one on Roach. 

“Let’s go,” he grumbled and helped her on Roach. “We’ll find Bramble later. There’s no danger for horses and plenty of food.”

He crawled on Roach and Eira circled her arms around him to keep herself steady. Her head rested between his shoulder blades and the elemental closed her eyes. Enjoying the short silence in her head while Geralt guided them through the trail that led to Kaer Mohren. 

They passed a river and Geralt stopped Roach which made Eira open her eyes again. When the Witcher moved himself a bit, Eira saw Kaer Mohren for the first time. The Keep wasn’t as grand as it used to be. More like a ruin now, but the stronghold still stood. 

“You’re home,” Eira whispered and the witcher glanced over his shoulder to meet her gaze. 

“Yes,” he said and tugged Roach into the right direction. “You can sleep there.”

“How will they react?”

“Who and on what?”

Eira rolled her eyes because Geralt wasn’t able to see it. 

“I’m an Elemental. Going into Kaer Mohren and other Witcher’s will probably be there.”

“Hmm,” Geralt murmured, yet Eira didn’t get a reply. 

She had her eyes closed and slightly dozed off when Roach was stopped. Geralt moved and jumped of the horse, his arm stretched out for her to take. Eira gladly took it and descended Roach. The elemental didn’t feel to steady on her legs and was comforted by Geralt who supported her by holding her arm. Though, he made it look like they were just walking next to each other instead. 

Eira made a mental note to thank him later when she wasn’t ready to faint. 

“Geralt, I don’t feel so good,” she spoke up when he guided her further into the Keep. 

“Almost there,” he said after a glance into her direction. 

Eira’s vision got hazy and she could hardly see an older man walking towards them. His arms outstretched and a smile on his face. The Elemental thought the man spoke Geralt’s name, but she wasn’t sure. 

“Geralt,” she murmured and felt how her legs gave out underneath her. 

The world turned black before her eyes and Eira was too tired to fight it. She could hear Geralt’s voice calling her name. It sounded far and unreachable. Eira wanted to ask to let her sleep. It didn’t matter where she was : on a bed or just on the ground outside in Kaer Morhen. The Elemental was too tired to care. 

Geralt’s voice disappeared and Eira embraced the darkness. The slumber that she hoped would last at least a human lifetime. 

It didn’t take long before she found herself in a dark forest and Eira was confused at first. The chill of the wind travelled up her legs to her arms and neck. Caused her hair to playfully move with the breeze. When the elemental glanced down, she noticed a short, white dress was all she wore. 

White, glittering ice particles decorated her skin everywhere and Eira seemed frozen in place. 

There was something wrong with the forest too ; when she let her eyes flicker over the trees, they looked all the same. It was all the same Oak tree. The same height, the same leaves, the same form… She opened her lips to shout for Geralt, but nothing came out. 

‘He isn’t here’

Instead of fear going through her when Eira heard the voice, a groan escaped her and if she could move, Eira would have fallen down out of despair. 

“Where are you?” She asked and turned her head to take in her surroundings. 

A short laugh echoed against the trees and back to her. For the first time since hearing the voice, Eira could now tell it was female. 

‘I’m everywhere and nowhere. You’re dreaming, yet you aren’t.’

“Riddles and prophecies are supposed to rhyme,” Eira retorted back what Geralt once told her. 

Another laugh and a sudden movement from her left made Eira turn her head. 

The Elemental saw the Other slowly emerging from the trees. Long, slender legs and gracefully the Other stepped over some branches. Her hair was long and red, eyes as black as the night. The short dress she wore was the same as Eira’s, except a deep, blood red. 

The fire particles that made her skin shine in the dark, made Eira want to take a step away from her. Ancient power radiated off the woman and Eira’s magic moved inside her. 

The Other crossed her arms before her chest and leaned against a tree with a smirk on her full lips. 

“What are you?” Eira asked, but knew the answer to her own question. An answer she dreaded more than anything else in the world. 

‘I’m like you,’ the redhead replied and cocked her head a bit to left. A movement that made Eira think about a feline predator observing its prey. ‘But stronger.’


	32. The Other

Chapter 31

The Other - Geralt’s POV

She didn’t wake. 

Not when Vesemir and himself put her on the bed in one of the few intact rooms of Kaer Mohren. Not when the Witcher put on the hearth to keep her warm. Not when he brought her food or water. 

The Elemental just laid still on her back, arms next to her without moving at all. Eyes closed and lips sealed. No matter how warm the chamber got, her skin was pale though sometimes a frown appeared on her face. 

The witcher stayed with her. Day and night while Vesemir went on his way to try and search for an answer. Geralt had send a message to Yennefer of Vengerberg and Triss Merigold. Either sorceress should be able to help, or at least, do something. 

Geralt meditated in her room, close by the bed, ate on the lonely chair that decorated the chamber and slept close by the fire. Vesemir had told him he was concerned. Not only because Eira was an Elemental and he didn’t know about her until the pair showed up at Kaer Mohren, but because Geralt had seemed to take a liking to her. 

“We know too little about Elementals,” the old Witcher had said one day. “Even in our books, there isn’t a lot of written about their lives or illnesses that they could get. Only a thousand pages about the Great War.”

Geralt had just mumbled something, his arms crossed against his chest and leant against the fireplace. He had shed his armour for easier clothing, his white hair hung lose around his face. 

“There has to be something,” he had told Vesemir. “She looks...uncomfortable.”

Another light twitch in Eira’s face told Geralt something was disturbing her slumber. If that what it was. 

“Yennefer of Vengerberg didn’t answer our call,” Vesemir spoke. “Triss Merigold should be here by dusk. Mousesack is on his way, but had to finish some business in Cintra first.”

Geralt heard the other Witcher and merely nodded. 

“Geralt,” Vesemir tried to get his full attention and, with hesitation, Geralt let his gaze meet the old man. 

“Yes, Vesemir, I do listen,” he told Vesemir curtly. 

“I had no idea you travelled with an Elemental,” the man started. “You know they’re prone to turn dark and many betrayed their Witcher. Others died. Why is Eira alive in the first place?”

Geralt let the words linger in his mind and finally shrugged while he walked to the Vesemir. 

“She came to life when I started the first mutation here in Kaer Mohren. She’s bound to me.”

“I understand that. But why?”

Geralt sighed annoyed and ran his fingers through his hair. 

“I don’t know. She’s been a loyal ally since we met. I trust her. She isn’t a dark elemental. Never did Eira lay a hand on a human or me.”

“She’s a potential danger and…”

“Enough!” Geralt’s voice boomed through the room and his eyes glared at his master. 

He was tired, hungry and worried. All of these things Geralt mostly could take without problems, but the witcher just wanted Eira to be better again. It was turmoil inside himself he kept fighting. Normally, he never was this emotional and he had a hard time getting them under control. 

“I will bathe and sleep,” he told Vesemir. “Wake me when Triss arrives. And I need to find the bard.”

“What bard?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt rubbed his temples with his fingers, “long story.”

“When you slept,” Vesemir stated, “I want the whole story. Of everything.”

“Even the bard?”

“Even the bard, yes.”

Geralt grumbled and nodded before he left the room. He didn’t really want to leave Eira alone in the chamber, but he needed a bath and a decent bed for some rest. After that, Geralt would let Triss locate Jaskier. The bard needed to be here, though Geralt didn’t really forward to his never ending chatty and joyful personality. 

He didn’t hate Jaskier. Not at all. The bard just had the habit to annoy him beyond words. When the bard was silent or calm, Geralt had no problem with his presence. It was his non-stop talking and cheerful attitude that sometimes bothered the witcher. 

The bath went faster then he anticipated. He was just getting some peace when an urgent knock pulled him out of it. 

“What?” His voice unfriendly and Geralt sat up in the tub. 

“It’s Triss,” a soft voice floated through the door and Geralt rolled his eyes. 

“Come in,” he told her after he walked out of the tub and grabbed a towel. 

When the door opened, Geralt stood with his back to the sorceress to find his clean clothes. 

“You’re early,” he grumbled while he pulled on his white, cotton long sleeve. 

“I came as fast as I could,” Triss’ voice came from behind him and Geralt nodded. “It’s about the Elemental?”

“She doesn’t wake up,” Geralt spoke while he disappeared behind the small screen to pull on his brown, linen trousers. “She heard voices. Loud. She was scared. When we entered Kaer Mohren, Eira fainted and didn’t wake up again.”

“How long has she been like this?”

Geralt came back in the room and locked eyes with the Sorceress. 

“Seven days,” he said and threw the towel in the corner of the room. “No change.”

Triss Merigold stared at him for some time before she finally moved. 

“I don’t know a lot…,” she started, but Geralt held up his hand to stop the woman. 

“I know. Nobody knows a lot about Elementals apparently,” he scoffed impatiently. “We will need to start with what we do know. Elemental. Voices. Doesn’t wake up.”

Triss nodded hesitantly and opened her lips again to speak up. Again, the witcher stopped her, not in the mood for whatever she was going to say. 

“If you got nothing to say that will help, keep your thoughts for your own,” he snapped at her. 

Triss pressed her lips into a tight line and the witcher could see she bit her tongue. 

“Bring me to her,” was all she said. “I will try to see what I can do or find out.”

They walked through the cold corridors of Kaer Mohren to Eira’s room. Much to Geralt’s surprise, Vesemir had took it upon himself to watch her while Geralt was bathing. Triss Merigold strode in, elegant and her brown dress ruffled against the stone floors. 

The Sorceress didn’t waste much time and made her way towards the sleeping elemental in the bed. A frown between Triss’ brows appeared when her hands lingered above the body of Eira while the two witcher’s stood a bit back. 

“Strange,” the Sorceress muttered while her fingers moved up and down. The movement made Geralt think of someone who played the piano. “She’s here, yet she isn’t.”

“What does that mean?” Vesemir asked. Only Geralt could hear the impatience in the elder Witcher’s voice. 

Triss didn’t reply, closed her eyes and grabbed Eira’s head between her hands. Trying to grasp some more of the Elemental’s thoughts. At least, that’s what Geralt thought. 

Triss started sweating. Her forehead glistened, her features contorted in a painful way. Both Witchers stood up straight when the room filled with magic and their medallions both started trembling against their chests. 

“Something’s wrong,” Triss muttered and opened her eyes. 

She glanced at Geralt with fear right before the Sorceress was thrown against the farthest wall of the room. She came down with a loud thud and Vesemir moved fast towards her. Geralt’s gaze flickered from Triss to Eira who was still silent on the bed. 

“Another,” Merigold mumbled and stood up with the help of Vesimir. “Eira. She’s not alone. Someone called the Other is with her. Such strong magic. It threw me without a problem.”

“Another Elemental?” Vesemir asked and Triss shrugged. 

“I don’t know what it is. It’s strong. Chaotic. Greedy and passionate.”

Geralt’s eyes widened and he cursed. 

“Triss, I need you to find Jaskier. Bring him here through a portal.” 

“Come with me,” the Sorceress spoke and dusted off her dress. 

“No,” Geralt said and went to sit on the side of the bed. “I fucking hate portals.”


	33. Panic

Chapter 32

Jaskier’s POV

Tracking wasn’t one of his skills. Lacking the ability to be able to find out where Eira and Geralt went, proved difficult for the bard. Much to his frustration. Jaskier thought to start with hearing out local people in the small villages he crossed. Wherever was a tale about a monster, there was a chance there was a witcher if there was coin involved. Where Geralt was, Eira should be. 

He had been travelling for some time, from village to village, before Jaskier had his first luck. One evening, the bard went into a local tavern in the hopes to find some warm food and a bed. Which, he found much to his delight. He kept silent in one of the corners of the Inn, eating his bread with dry meat and drunk the red wine. 

Jaskier was lost in thought, his fingers played with the bread while he thought what exactly he was going to do when he saw Eira. Until, the conversation that went on next to him, caught his attention. 

“A Witcher, I tell ya,” the patron of the Inn said to one of the women who sat at the bar. “The White wolf, they call ‘im. With a woman, fair haired and beautiful.”

Jaskier didn’t hesitate when he dropped his food and walked towards them. 

“How long ago was this?” He asked, not bothering to excuse himself to disturb the conversation. 

The patron frowned and looked at the bard up and down. Jaskier sighed and put his hands on his waist. 

“I’m looking for the witcher and the girl. I’m a friend,” he said and hoped the man would finally tell him when they passed here. 

“A fortnight ago,” came the reply. “They kept to themselves. The gal was a bit drunk, aye. Sung songs the whole time. She can’t carry a tune at all. White Wolf payed a room for her. They left early morning.”

Jaskier nodded vaguely. 

“Do you know which direction?”

The man shrugged and went on with his business. Jaskier turned on his heels, feeling a spark of hope since he left Oxenfurt and nearly bumped against someone. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, didn’t even look up because he was so lost in thought. 

“Julian Alfred Pankratz?”

Jaskier stopped in his tracks and glanced towards the cloaked person who just said his full name. He frowned and turned to face whoever he was. No one ever called him by that name since...well, a long time. 

“Maybe?” He said doubtfully. 

The cloaked figure elegantly pulled the hood away from her head. Revealing playful curls and a freckled face. 

“I’m Triss Merigold,” she said. “Geralt send me to take you to Kaer Morhen.”

Jaskier blinked a few times before fully realizing what the woman before him just said. 

“Kaer Mohren? The Keep? Where the witchers were trained?”

Triss arched a brow and cocked her head to the right. She looked at him amused. 

“Is there another Kaer Mohren, Julian?”

“Jaskier,” he interrupted her with a hand gesture. “Why?”

“Why what?”

He tapped impatiently with his foot. 

“Why is Geralt in Kaer Mohren? Is Eira with him?”

The woman’s smile disappeared which sent a shiver of worry through his body. Jaskier took a step closer, his face serious and lips pressed together. 

“Is she okay?”

Triss slowly shook her head and pointed at the door. 

“We should leave now. Geralt’s expecting you.”

“It’s a month’s travel,” Jaskier started while he threw coin on the bar and turned to follow Triss outside. 

“No, it isn’t,” she said and with one wave of her hand, a portal appeared out of nowhere. 

“You’re a sorceress,” Jaskier stated the obvious. “And...that’s a portal,” he added doubtfully. 

“Never went through a portal before?”

“No, but I know Geralt hates them,” Jaskier murmured and played with his hands because he felt nervous. 

“It’s the portal or you travel by foot for a fortnight,” Triss said matter-of-factly. “And the trail leading to Kaer Mohren is dangerous for those who don’t know the way.”

Jaskier shook his head. 

“The portal is fine,” he said and followed the sorceress without asking further. 

Triss smirked. 

“What love can make men do,” she sighed and went through the portal. 

The cold stones of Kaer Mohren were the first Jaskier felt. Once he stepped through the portal, his head started spinning and he lost his balance. 

“That’s why I hate portals,” Geralt’s raspy voice made Jaskier look up at him. 

“Can’t blame you,” he managed to croak out, took another few seconds to let the dizziness pass before the bard got up on his feet. 

He didn’t even take the time to dust off his clothes and walked straight to the Witcher who stood next to a hearth that burned wildly. 

“Why am I here?” He asked and Geralt glanced at him. 

The way the witcher looked at Jaskier, made the bard feel a knot in his throat and he looked down at his feet. 

“Where’s Eira? Is she fine? I need to know. Triss didn’t tell me shit.”

“She’s alive,” Geralt muttered and Jaskier took a deep breath of relief.

It was only then Jaskier saw that the witcher’s gaze always flickered between Jaskier and something behind him. The bard swallowed and turned around in one movement. There was a large bed against the farthest wall and as soon as Jaskier saw the sleeping body in it, everything around him seemed to disappear. 

“Eira,” he whispered and strode towards her. 

He hardly recognised her. Her cheeks were fallen in, black lines decorated her skin underneath her closed eyes. The blond, long hair was a mess and Eira looked way too skinny to be healthy. 

“What’s going on? Eira, wake up.”

The tune in his voice was stern while the bard’s hands caressed the Elemental’s face. There wasn’t a single reaction from her when he touched her. His fingers fumbled in her hair, down to her cheeks and back up again. They were trembling, his hands not steady anymore. 

“She isn’t going to wake up, Jaskier,” Geralt said to him. “She’s been like this for...days.”

“Why not?” 

His voice lost all its calm by now when the bard looked at Geralt. 

“We don’t know,” the Witcher admitted. “We only know that she heard voices and that … Eira seemed to be fighting something inside her. Someone called the Other. Or whatever.”

The Witcher looked tired himself and Jaskier glanced from Eira to Geralt a few times. 

“We should help her,” Jaskier said helplessly. 

“Obviously, bard,” Geralt scoffed angrily. “It took Triss a while to find your ass. If you didn’t leave in the first place, maybe all of this would have been avoided,” the witcher snarled. 

Jaskier stared at him. 

“This isn’t my fault, and you know this,” the bard said dryly and sat down on the bed. “I’m here now. Let’s find out how to get her better. I’ve been in Oxenfurt for research. I have the book of the Great War with me. Maybe I overlooked something.”

The witcher stayed silent which Jaskier took as an agreement. 

“What is Triss Merigold doing here?”

The sudden voice made both men jump up from their places and glance at the door. Dressed in all black and eyes blazing fire towards them right before they settled on the figure in the bed. The violet gaze softened in an instant and Jaskier noticed the room filled with the scent of Lilac and Gooseberry’s. 

“I know how to get the little one awake,” Yennefer said and strode towards the bed. “I’ll help her.”


	34. Note

I’m sorry for the slow updates. I’m going to stop writing for a while. My son hasn’t slept properly ever since he was a baby (read : I only get four hours a sleep if I’m lucky) And I just can’t seem to function properly anymore. Writing fanfiction has kept me sane through these sleepless nights, but I’m simply exhausted and can’t do it at the moment anymore. I’m so sorry. Once I feel better, I will pick it up again. Sorry


	35. Never the Same

Chapter 34

Geralt’s POV

Jaskier woke up first, much to Geralt’s frustration. Not that he would have hoped the bard was gone, but Eira kept her eyes firmly closed. The bard woke up with a jolt, jumped up right on the bed where he laid himself next to the Elemental. 

“Eira!”

His voice frantic while his arms waved around him. 

“Fire,” he murmured in panic, “There’s flames everywhere.”

“You’re back, Jaskier,” Geralt told him when he firmly grabbed the panicked bard by the shoulders and forced Jaskier to look at him. “You’re awake.”

The bard stared wide-eyed at Geralt before he finally calmed down and snapped his head into Eira’s direction. Geralt took a deep breath in through his nose. 

“She isn’t awake. What happened?”

Somewhere behind the Witcher Yennefer moved slowly towards Eira and put her hand on the Elemental’s forehead. 

“She’s sleeping,” the Sorceress looked at him. “She’s fine. Tired, but fine. Whatever the bard did, it worked.”

Geralt let Jaskier get up from the bed and took a step back. It was clear on Jaskier’s face that he needed a moment. The way the bard was going through his hair with his fingers, nervous and breathing hard. Geralt wasn’t keen on the fact that Yennefer wanted Jaskier to go help Eira. 

When the Sorceress had told them that there was a way to link both minds together, Geralt had offered himself up to go and find Eira in her own mind and pull her out of it again. Or fight whatever was in there. 

When Yennefer had told him she wanted Jaskier to do it, Geralt had laughed out loud and was met with two serious faces. 

“I think you might consider the fact she would ice you as soon as she sees you,” Gerald had said, but to his surprise, the bard merely shrugged his shoulder and had given Yennefer a firm nod. 

Triss Merigold helped Yennefer with the spell while Geralt stood by and watched everything unfold from the back of the room. There wasn’t anything he was allowed to do and it frustrated him. 

When Jaskier was asleep and the link between them worked, Triss had left the room while Yennefer came to stand next to him. 

“She will be fine, Geralt,” she had told him in her confident voice. “The little one is strong, even now I can feel her magic. Faint, but still there.”

“Why the bard?” He had grumbled. 

“I hope she’s angry enough at him which will make her wake up. And defeat whatever is in there with her.”

He had laughed, a dry, but sincere one and had to agree with Yennefer’s way of thinking. 

“Maybe,” he had muttered between his teeth. “Eira isn’t one to carry a grudge.”

Yennefer’ violet eyes had blinked mischievous. 

“Don’t underestimate a woman whose heart got broken,” she simply countered back and made her way out of the room. 

Geralt had sat beside Eira on the bed, staring at the wall until Jaskier had finally woke up. 

Now, the Witcher followed the nervous Bard with his eyes. 

“What happened?”

“Ah,” Jaskier scoffed and finally settled himself down on the only chair in the room. 

Both the witcher and the sorceress looked down at him. 

“Black Elemental,” Jaskier mumbled and Geralt stood up a bit straighter. “Fire. She could do the fire magic thingie. She was scary, Geralt. Like black eyes and everything.”

A quick glance into the direction of Yennefer told the witcher that the sorceress stood up a bit straighter too. Her eyes didn’t leave the bard and her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her corset. 

“Eira?” Geralt turned his attention back to Jaskier. “How is Eira?”

It was all he wanted to know at this point. The fact that there was another Elemental did send a chill over his spine. Especially because it was a Black One, but because Eira still didn’t woke, Geralt needed to know how she was. 

“She’s alive,” Jaskier said, eyes towards his feet. “She used up all her power to get the Other one banished. She saved us from the fire that the Black one conjured up.”

The bard snickered nervously. 

“Angry thought. Maybe I shouldn’t be here when she wakes.”

Geralt opened his mouth, but it was Yennefer who moved towards the bard. Her violet gaze on him. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” her voice cold. “You’re staying here. She’ll wake up, you’ll apologize.”

“And get an explanation,” Jaskier countered back and Geralt sighed annoyed. 

“Whatever Bard,” he said and waved his hand. “You stay. Get yourself cleaned up, you look like shit.”

“I missed you too, Geralt,” Jaskier breathed out and got out of the room, Yennefer close on his heels. 

It was silent in the room again, much to Geralt’s liking though his mind wasn’t as peaceful as the chamber. A black elemental would mean trouble and …

“Geralt,” the small voice floated to his ears and the witcher turned to the bed. 

Tired, blue eyes stared back at him and he involuntarily felt a relieved smile that crept on his lips. 

“Eira,” he breathed out and walked over to her. “You’re awake.”

She didn’t move, except for her eyes that followed him. Her head moved slightly to face him. 

“There’s another,” she spoke hoarsely and her features contorted into pain. 

“I know,” he spoke calmly and reached for the glass of water that stood on the bedside. “You need water. Your throat must be painful.”

“I can’t move,” she spoke and coughed dryly. “Everything hurts.”

The witcher stared at her for a moment before he came closer and put his arms around her torso. He pulled her up slightly so Eira could lean against the bedframe with her back. She was light, too light, and it wasn’t a problem for Geralt to help her up. 

He didn’t hesitate when he sat beside her and helped her get some water. Her hands shook and the water almost spilled over the rim. 

“Fire, Geralt, she wields fire,” she said after some sips. “She kept me prison in my own mind. She wants me to join her in Nilfgaard.”

“Nilfgaard,” he put the glass back on the stand and locked eyes with her. “What’s in Nilfgaard?”

“I don’t know. She wanted to kill Jask…,” she looked around and Geralt saw she got a bit of her strength back. “Where is he?” Eira suddenly snapped her head to face him, fire in her eyes that wasn’t there before. “Did he leave again?”

“No,” Geralt spoke fast. “Yennefer would have had him killed.”

He took a deep breath in. 

“Eira, Jaskier’s fine,” he told her because there was worry in her voice that only he could hear after travelling together so long. “He’s getting cleaned up. Spare the bard, he offered himself up right away to go to you.”

Her tired eyes rested on him and Geralt didn’t see it coming when her arms circled around his neck. The Elemental’s head came to rest on his shoulder and the witcher slowly hugged her back. Months ago, he would have pushed her away. Now, he was just relieved that she was alive and awake. And seemingly fine, except for the panic about another Elemental. 

“I heard your voice,” she whispered. “You were here all the time.”

“Of course,” he spoke matter of factly and let her go to get up from the bed. “I couldn’t just drop you here and leave you to your faith.”

“You could have,” she said and a vague smile came around her lips. 

Geralt smirked. 

“I need you,” he said, “Whenever I do something stupid, I need you to stop me.”

Eira laughed and it was, in that moment, the most beautiful sound that the witcher had heard in a long time. 

The door opened slowly and both Geralt and Eira turned to face the person who lingered in the opening. 

“Eira,” Jaskier whispered. “You’re fine?”

Geralt turned his gaze towards the elemental to do a quick check that she wouldn’t kill him on the spot. Yet, he smiled to himself when he saw Eira’s gaze soften the moment the bard walked in. 

“I let you two alone. I make sure you’ll be able to take a warm bath,” he grumbled, suddenly feeling like the third wheel in the room. 

“Say Yennefer thank you,” Eira told him before he left. 

“Tell her yourself later,” he said and closed the door behind him.


	36. You left me

Chapter 35  
You left me - Eira POV

She didn’t want Geralt to leave the room. Yet, the witcher closed the door behind Jaskier’s back and left her alone with the bard. Eira grunted, part out of pain when she swung her legs over the bed, and part out of frustration. 

“You’re still here,” she spoke, and touched the cold, stone floor with her toes. 

The chill made her squint her eyes, but Eira was able to handle that. It was the harsh pains that ran through her body that made her close her eyes. Her body trembled and her stomach grumbled. 

“Geralt and Yennefer would have my head if I left,” Jaskier said, the joke hung in the air and passed again. 

Eira opened her eyes when the pains faintly ebbed away. With all her might, Eira pushed herself from the bed and realised too late that she moved too fast. The chamber started spinning around her and nausea took hold of her. 

“Shit,” she was able to mutter before her knees buckled underneath her. 

The bard moved faster than she ever thought he could. Before she was fully aware, he had her by the waist and gently put her back down on the bed. Her hands held onto his neck to hold herself steady. 

“Go slow,” he murmured, concern in his voice. “Your body needs food and water. You’ll be strong in no time again.”

Eira felt his gaze on her face and looked up. The humour in his voice and features were completely erased. His brows knitted together and Eira felt a warm rush that flooded her when Jaskier held on to her a bit too long. It was then that Eira saw she still had her hands around his neck. She quickly let go, as if she burned herself. 

“You left me,” she suddenly snapped, but her voice wasn’t as harsh as she hoped. 

Jaskier stood up straight again and nodded slowly, his eyes towards his shoes instead of her. 

“I did,” he admitted. 

“Without a word, you just left,” she spoke matter of factly. As if hadn’t happened to her, but someone else. 

“Eira,” he started and when he looked at her, Eira shook her head and slowly stood up to face him. 

“No, you knew I was scared to be alone,” she said. “Still, you left without saying a word.”

“I was surprised! You lied to me. I thought you were human not some … magic creature who is able to destroy every living being in this world!”

He raised his voice, Eira balled her fists angrily. 

“I never told you because I was scared you would leave! I was right, wasn’t I?! Do you really think I’m able to kill anything? Other than the occasional monster?”

She scoffed and shuffled to the other side of the room. 

“No,” Jaskier replied and leaned against the wall with his back. “You have to understand that I knew little about Elementals, Eira.”

His voice was calm, reasonable which only angried Eira more. 

“Oh,” she breathed, “and now you do?”

“I went to Oxenfurt, I read all the books I could found that even mentioned Elementals.”

Eira scoffed, held herself steady against the only chair in the room. Jaskier opened his hands while he took a small step towards her. 

“The only thing I knew is that Elementals tried to kill almost everyone. Destructive powers and crazy things,” he said calmly. “ I panicked. I never saw anything … bad in you. And it turns out you have these incredible powers.”

Eira watched him come closer and tried to calm herself down.

“You know me,” she eventually spoke. “I had hope you would see through it.”

Jaskier went through his hair with one of his hands and sighed heavily. The silence like a shroud around their shoulders, heavy and hard. It made Eira uncomfortable and she shifted on her feet. 

“Geralt was here,” Jaskier suddenly spoke, a cold undertone in his voice and Eira narrowed her eyes when he looked at her. “He never left your side, if I’m not mistaken.”

Eira opened her lips to speak up, but decided against it. Jaskier’s blue eyes met hers and the Elemental clenched her fists. 

“You had him,” he finally spoke and Eira felt her magic twirl inside her. 

Weak, but there her magic was and although Eira meant to make it rain hail on the bard’s stupid head, all she got was snow. The crystal white, soft flakes rained down gently from the ceiling towards the floor. Jaskier looked up amazed and didn’t notice how Eira had closed in on him. 

She stood before him, anger in her eyes. 

“I need you,” she snapped. “I wanted you.”

Jaskier huffed, took a step back from the angry Elemental. 

“I don’t know why,” he spoke, “Geralt is as strong as you are and you obviously like him.”

Eira took a deep breath in, couldn’t hold back and grabbed him by the shoulders to make him look down at her. 

“Because I’m in love with you!” She screamed. “I’m in love with you, you jerk! Not Geralt! I like Geralt, I love Geralt. Not like you. I needed YOU!”

The snowflakes clung in the bard’s hair while he looked at her wide-eyed. Eira pursed her lips together, let him go as if she just burned herself and took a large step back away from him. 

The snow stopped falling. Her magic silent in her body and Eira felt dizzy. 

“I need food,” she murmured and she could hear Jaskier move towards her, but the Elemental took a small, weak step back. “Don’t,” she whispered. 

“Eira,” the bard murmured, his hand came to rest on her elbow, but with the last strength that she had in her frail body, Eira pulled herself loose. 

“No,” she shook her head and felt defeated. Who knew what Jaskier had done in those months they weren’t together. She shouldn’t have held the secret from him, but Eira expected more from the bard. He could have said that he would needed some time, not just leave without a word. 

“Enough, bard,” Geralt’s voice disturbed the pair and Eira lifted her head to look at the witcher. The single tear that streamed down her face was quickly wiped away by her hand when Geralt told them there was food waiting in the main hall. 

She didn’t look at the bard when she left the chamber. Nor did the Elemental look at Geralt while she brushed past him and into the nice, cold corridors of Kaer Mohren.


	37. Conflicted

Chapter 36  
Conflict - Jaskier’s POV

The cold water that dripped from his hair, left him shivering. The snow had melted and turned to water, making Jaskier shiver while he glanced at Geralt. 

“She’s angry,” the Witcher stated and Jaskier huffed. 

“I couldn’t say,” he murmured. “She let it snow.”

“I’m sure she meant for something more….harsher,” Geralt spoke while he turned on his heels. “You’re an idiot, Bard. I told you this countless times before. Your jealousy has no ground of reason. Her mind was with you all these months, not me.”

“You heard that,” he put his hands in his pockets and felt the shame wash over him. 

Yet, Jaskier wasn’t sorry that he said it. It was something that kept circling his mind since he arrived at Kaer Mohren. The Witcher was protective of Eira and the worry on the White Wolf’s face was evident when Eira didn’t woke. 

“I did,” Geralt murmured while disappearing out of the room. 

Jaskier followed, certain the witcher would lead him to the food. His stomach hurt from hunger by now. 

“You have to understand, Jaskier,” Geralt spoke and glanced over his shoulder, “I do care about Eira. It’s the magic that binds us. I grew….attached to the Elemental.”

Jaskier sighed and felt a sudden gulf of sadness wash over him. 

“But I don’t love her like you think,” Geralt held his pace and turned to face the bard fully. “I don’t love her like you do.”

At first, Jaskier was speechless, then an awkward, nervous laughter escaped him. 

“Well, I …, I don’t...Well I do, but… no. I mean,...,” he scratched his hair again and felt his cheeks heat up. “Shit,” he finally said and gave up to find his words.

Geralt smirked and shook his head. 

“Never thought you were so stubborn, bard.”

“I’m not,” he countered back and both started walking again. 

“You are.”

“No, I’m not. I’m conflicted,” Jaskier admitted and ignored the impatient sigh that came from the witcher. “Geralt, she’s an Elemental. That means her body isn’t her own. She… she took a human’s body.”

Geralt stopped again and swiveled around to face him. 

“She took the body of a woman who was dying,” he said harsh. “Not some woman who was in the prime of her age. Not the first beautiful one she saw. No, she fucking waited for 80 years until she finally found a body. She isn’t like the other ones that roamed the world. And if you don’t bloody see that, bard,” he spat, “then you might as well leave like you did before. And you better don’t come back.”

Jaskier breathed out when Geralt turned around again. 

“I’m not leaving,” he stated firmly and followed the witcher through the cold corridors of Kaer Mohren. “I left because I was taken by surprise.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said, but didn’t pay attention to the bard no more. 

“Hey!” Jaskier suddenly grabbed Geralt by the arm to make the witcher face him. He needed to explain and felt anger rise in his chest. “You’re not the only one worried about her. I was worried for months. There wasn’t a second she was out of my head. I needed to know what she was. It’s who I am. I research things, I read about history. I was a scholar before I became a bard. I don’t have a silver sword or the knowledge you have.”

He breathed in, while the witcher looked at Jaskier without emotion etched on his face. 

“I love her, okay,” he admitted. “I liked her when I met her in the Inn after Blaviken, I fell in love with her after we got seperated in the woods. I’m just… I’m a bard. I don’t have the strength like you do to protect her if something goes wrong.”

“I don’t need protection, Jaskier,” a soft voice came from behind Geralt’s back. 

Both men turned to face Eira who stood in the doorway of the main hall. Bread in one hand, red meat in the other and Jaskier was relieved that the dark circles underneath her eyes seemed to disappear. 

“I’m out,” Geralt said and made himself scarce, disappearing into the shadows of the corridors the witcher no doubt knew so well. 

Jaskier leaned with his hands on his hips and felt caught. 

“I don’t want your protection,” Eira spoke, all the anger from before gone. “I only wanted you.”

“Eira, you were being terrorized by another Elemental. If I had been there…”

“She would still have done it,” Eira stated and Jaskier caught her gaze. 

He bit his lip, rubbed his hair again and nodded. 

“I’m sorry. For leaving. I panicked, it was wrong. I shouldn’t have left.”

Eira looked at him for a while and the bard held her gaze. When she looked down at her feet and played with a white ribbon from her grey dress, Jaskier smiled vaguely. She was nervous, he could tell. 

“I’m sorry too,” she whispered. “I should have told you what I am from the start. I wanted too,” she looked up at him. “I really did. After a while, I got scared that you would…”

Jaskier pinched his lips together. 

“Would leave you,” he finished for her and the guilt rose in his stomach, painful and hard. 

“I’m not evil,” she murmured silently. “I’m not. I know why you would think that. There aren’t any good stories about Elementals. Only horrid ones. I’m not here to destroy or …”

“Eira,” he interrupted her and swiftly moved to take her hands in his. She dropped the bread without hesitation. “I know. I just need… information. And it seems, you’re the only one who can give it to me. I should have asked you and listened. Not run to Oxenfurt.”

A smile passed over her lips that reached her eyes and Jaskier felt her hands tighten gently around his. His heartbeat sped up when he looked at her. 

“You look...terrible,” he said and Eira let out a short laugh. 

“I need a bath and fresh clothes,” she agreed. “I feel as if I slept for months, yet I’m exhausted.”

“What if I make sure there’s a warm bath ready for you in your chamber? After you bathed and got dressed, we’ll eat together. You can tell me all about yourself. I want to know.”

He did. The bard really wanted to know all about Eira. The young woman who loved sunflowers and laughing. When her smile widened slowly, Jaskier could easily see behind the exhaustion that she carried. 

Hesitantly, he let her hands go and nodded. 

“I’ll go find Geralt and ask about the bath,” he said.

“I go to Yennefer to ask for clothes,” she smiled and turned quickly to disappear into the main hall again. 

Jaskier turned around and almost bumped against Triss. 

“Miss Merigold,” he apologized and walked passed her. 

“Jaskier,” her voice pulled him back out of his thoughts about Eira and Jaskier held his pace to glance over his shoulder. 

“I’m looking for Geralt. Eira would like to take a bath,” he started, but then noticed the firm look on the Sorceress face. 

“No matter what Eira says,” she said while gracefully walking closer to him. “You should be aware that in the past White Elementals turned Black quite fast. It is bound to happen to Eira. It runs in their blood.”

Jaskier raised a brow and shook his head. 

“No,” he chuckled nervously, “I don’t believe that. There’s no such information.”

“Ask Yennefer. We learned about Elementals at the Tower of Swallows. Not much, only that all Elementals turn bad eventually.”

Jaskier gritted his teeth and shook his head. A flare of anger rose in his chest. 

“No, I’m not believing it for a second,” he snapped. “I don’t care who you are, even less what you say. Thank you for bringing me here, Miss Merigold. As far as I’m concerned, we have no business together.”

He strode towards the corridor to find the Witcher. Making a mental note to keep eye out on Triss. And to find Yennefer of Vengerberg later.


	38. Teaser : Sparks of Fire

Geralt and Eira - Sparks of Fire

One shot - teaser

Jaskier had left without one word after Eira had told him she was an Elemental. He had left her by the crumbling castle where the Djinn had worked its magic and the Elemental felt her heart break in a million pieces when her gaze watched the Bard disappear into the near forest. 

Months had passed and she had felt both sadness and anger while travelling with Geralt from one place to another. The Witcher didn't speak of Jaskier. Eira didn't know if he was angry with the bard or just plainly forgotten about him. Either way, she was grateful for it. 

They took contracts, hunted monsters and collected coin together. And slowly, the heartbreak didn't hurt so much anymore. Instead, the elemental laughed with Geralt around the campfire when they talked about the things they did during the day. 

The spark of hapinness returned in her eyes. 

One lazy evening at one of the Inn's, Geralt and Eira shared dinner together in silence after a long day of travelling. The witcher denied a contract that day because he thought they both needed some well needed rest. 

"You're getting stronger," he said and glanced at her. 

Their elbows touched and Eira leaned back with a satisfied smile on her face. 

"I had a lot of practice the last months," she locked eyes with him and Geralt swiftly looked away. 

Something he did for the last few weeks, yet Eira figured it was a 'Witcher' - thing and never brought it up. 

"Hmm," he murmered and took a gulp of his ale. 

Eira felt the silence around them and Geralt pulled his elbow away. 

"Do you want to play a round of Gwent?"

He laughed then, the sound brought an unexpected shiver on her spine. 

"No," he countered back, his voice light and finally locked eyes with her again. "I trained you too well."

Eira's eyes widened and her smile grew. 

"You're scared of losing," she said with a chuckle. 

"No," Geralt smirked and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm fed up with losing every night."

Eira laughed loud and sincere, so much that she needed to hold her stomach because it hurt. Geralt chuckled lightly with her and Eira locked eyes with him again. And the air around them changed slightly. She wasn't the only one who felt it because the Witcher cleared his throat and looked into his now empty pint. 

"I'm going to bed," he said quietly and stood up in a blink of an eye. 

"Yes, me too," Eira murmured and wiped her sweaty hands on her dress. "Good night, Geralt."

"Good night, Eira. The key to your room," he handed her the large key that he got when he checked them both in before dinner. "Your next to mine."

She saw him leave up the stairs, got up and bit gnawed at her bottom lip. For some reason, her gaze kept following him up the stairs until the Witcher was completely out of sight. 

"I hope you have coin for the meal?"

The waitor of the Inn made her head snap into his direction and Eira nodded while paying him. 

"I'm going for a walk," she said. "Is someone still here if I come back after an hour?"

"You're free to go and come," the friendly man told her with a smile. "Just be careful, these roads aren't always safe for a young lady alone."

Eira nodded and went out into the fresh air. 

She was ... confused. Her heart wasn't meant to speed up like that when she looked at Geralt. The last time she felt butterflies for someone, it didn't end well. 

Another part of her disagreed. Whispered that Geralt exactly knew who she was and still stuck around. 

A curse rolled of her lips and Eira shook her head while turning a corner towards the center of the town. Her walk took exactly an hour, and how hard she tried, Eira couldn't stop thinking about Geralt. 

Her mind was chaotic with confusion and she needed to talk to him. To get things straight. To know she imagined things because the more she thought about it, the more Eira remembered that Geralt tried to not touch her since a week or two. Or averted his gaze from her when she was close by. 

That he became protective during their fights. Even got angry once when Eira came too close against a Wraith. 

Before she was fully aware, she was inside the Inn and before his door. The whole house was silent and doubt crossed her mind. 

The door opened at the same moment she stuck her fist up to knock. Revealing Geralt with only his linnen trousers on. Eira arched a brow and tried to keep her gaze on his face and not let it travel down his torso. 

"Eira," he spoke gruffily. 

"How did you know...," she started and Geralt opened his door completly. 

"The magic, it stirred me awake," he replied and he took a step sideways so Eira could enter his room. 

She did, with nervous hands and slightly shaking. 

"I'm sorry," she said and turned on her heels, "I didn't mean to wake you. It isn't important. It can wait until morning."

Geralt scratched his hair and groaned when she made her way towards the door again. 

"You're here now," he murmured and stuck out his arm to stop her from leaving. Closing the door with his foot and Eira felt his fingers circling around her waist. 

She felt the warmth of his hand burning through her dress and Eira swallowed away the sudden dryness in her throat. This was a mistake. What was she thinking? 

"What is it, Eira? It's close to midnight."

He was so close that Eira could feel his breath on her face. Hesitantly, the Elemental turned her face to face him. 

"It's no..."

"Don't say it's nothing," he breathed impatiently. "You never woke me before."

She could see his gaze darted over her face and slowly, but steadily, Geralt's other hand came to rest on her hips. Holding her completely still and grounded. 

She opened her lips, thought the better of it and licked them instead. Her gaze dropped from his eyes to his lips and Eira let out a soft groan. She couldn't help it and her body moved out of its own. 

She closed the distance between them and put her lips on his. Hesitantly, doubting but strong enough that the Witcher knew she was kissing him. 

He froze. His grip on her hips tightened and Eira pulled back after a few seconds when Geralt didn't move. Not his hands, not his lips. 

"I'm so...," she started when she noticed the shocked look on his face. 

Eira wasn't able to finish her sentence. The Witcher moved fast. Faster then she ever saw him move when his hands let go of her hips and cradled her face into them. 

His lips came crashing down on hers. Wild and untamed, the Witcher's lips claimed hers. His fingers in her hair, on her throat, collarbones and shoulders. It was as if his hands were all at once and Eira's hands came to rest on his chest while answering his kiss with so much passion that Geralt groaned in her mouth. 

"Shit," he murmured when he pulled slightly back so he could look at her. 

His eyes dark, his hold on her still strong. Eira's lips tingled, her magic twirled wildly inside her. The golden, sparkling thread that bound them, cirled around them both when Geralt pulled her against him again. The thread sparkling brightly, embracing them both while Eira circled her hands behind his neck. 

She felt the warmth of his chest, let her fingers roam over the tight muscles gently while the Witcher's thumbs hooked underneath the shoulder bands of her dress. He carefully moved them so they hung loosely around her upper arms. 

He broke the kiss, just to move his head slightly down. A whimper escaped her mouth when his lips came to rest in the crook of her neck. Tracing kissed towards her collarbone and Eira closed her eyes underneath his touch. 

She might have whimpered his name, she wasn't sure but her hold on him only tightened around his back. 

The magic in the room trembled playfully in waves all around them. Illuminating them both in a soft golden light. 

A/N Hi everyone! I'm still working on Embers. In the meantime, I'm writing the Geralt/Eira ship. (I couldn't let it go) So, this is a teaser for you. I hope you like it! I need to finish Embers first. XoXo Aysline


	39. Silence

Chapter 37

Eira’s POV 

When she stuck her toe in the damping bath water, Eira hissed first before she felt the heat engulf her feet. The redness on her skin told her the water was way too warm but she didn’t care. In just a few seconds, she lowered herself totally in the tub and sighed happily. The tingling of the warmth on her skin made her feel alive once more. 

The soap that Jaskier had left smelled like the forest and Eira scrubbed herself clean. From head to toe and back again. Her long hair took some time to completely soak in and for a moment, she wondered how the hell she would be able to get the whole thing unknotted when she stood before the mirror in a long white robe. 

Her fingers went through her locks and she cursed silently. 

“I can help with that,” Yennefer spoke from behind her. 

Eira’s eyes caught the Sorceress’ by looking in the mirror. 

“I can do it,” she murmured and saw Yennefer smile. 

“It’s quite long. Let me help, it’ll go faster,” the woman countered back and pointed at the chair. “Sit.”

Eira turned and tightened the cord around her robe. She nodded in agreement and made her way to the chair. With one hand movement, Yennefer had a brush and pushed the Elemental down on the chair. The Sorceress' hands were cold to Eira’s skin, which sent a shiver through her. 

Yet, Yen’s fingers moved gentle and fast, unknotting, combing and repeating the movement over and over again until Eira’s hair shone and could be braided. All the procedure happened in silence, something the Elemental was grateful for because her mind was chaotic. Her features were like stone, but inside her thoughts raced through her head about what happened. Still unsure if this was all real, or that the Other played tricks. 

“How was the other Elemental? Do you know where she is?” Yennefer finally asked when she tied the thick braid together. 

“Evil,” Eira answered and glanced at the dark eyes that stared back at her from the mirror. “And no. Nilfgaard is big.”

Yennefer snickered to break the tense silence between them while Eira looked down at her fingers. 

“You should have seen the panic in the bard’s eyes, dear,” the Sorceress said. “No matter how dumb I think he is, Jaskier truly was worried about you.”

Eira kept quiet, just nodded and stood up again. 

“So was Geralt,” Yen added with a smile and caressed Eira’s hair. “So was I.”

“Thank you,” Eira said and could muster up a smile. “I’m really hungry and Jaskier will be waiting for me.”

“Of course,” Yennefer said and took a step aside. 

The movement made her dress ruffle on the ground and Eira swiftly walked past the sorceress. She wasn’t scared of Yenner, she just didn’t trust her enough to tell Yen all about the Other. There was always a glint in the sorceress’ eyes when it came to subjects about power. The last thing that Eira wished for, was Yennefer to ever come into contact with such a powerful being as the Other. 

“You look worried,” the gentle voice of Jaskier brought her out of her thoughts. 

The smile that crept around her lips when she heard his voice, was sincere and still plastered on her face when Eira turned to face him. He leant against the wall with his shoulder and answered her smile with one of his own. Eira, still exhausted, felt better when the bard looked at her like that. As if nothing had changed in all those months separated. 

Something tugged at her heart strings and her smile faded slowly. She changed when he had left her that time and Eira wasn’t sure she could completely forgive him. 

“You promised me food,” she said, her voice light yet her thoughts were dark. “And maybe you could tell me about Oxenfurt.”

Jaskier’s own smile dropped, but only for a moment. 

“I will,” he spoke brightly and hooked his elbow in hers. “Let’s eat together. Geralt will join us as soon as he’s done with...whatever he’s doing.”

His body was so close that Eira suddenly felt flustered while Jaskier led her inside. She couldn’t help how her body reacted to his closeness and her heart throbbed wildly inside her ribcage. The elemental felt both relieved and sad when the bard took out a chair for her. 

They started eating in silence, but the uncomfortable silence was soon replaced by both of them telling the other what happened in their months of being seperated. 

“You stayed with an old friend?” Eira asked in between bites and saw Jaskier turn his gaze towards his plate. 

He played with his fork while he nodded. 

“Yes. Someone I knew from my years in college. She now works in the library.”

An odd feeling of jealousy suddenly crept inside Eira and she swallowed to hide it.   
Jaskier chuckled while he put his fork down. 

“She was helpful because I got access to the library whenever I wanted. Even at night.”

Eira nodded and even mustered up a smile. 

“I’m not evil,” she suddenly spoke. “I know most elementals went rogue and turned dark. I’m not.”

Jaskier’s features turned serious and he reached out to touch her hand. 

“I know. I always knew,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I panicked.”

His voice hoarse and breaking with his apology. Eira believed him. It was hard not to see how he was looking at her for forgiveness. 

“I’m sorry too,” she spoke honestly and her free hand came to rest on top of his. “I should have been honest from the start. I didn’t mean to hide. I was scared.”

Jaskier suddenly stood up, pulled her up and circled his arms around her in a gentle embrace. His warmth engulfed her and Eira released it was the only warmth she could enjoy. The way Jaskier held her against him, his chin rested on her hair while one of his hands caressed her back, made Eira sob quietly. 

“I missed you,” she whispered into his neck and pressed a kiss on his skin there. “It was like something was being ripped out of my chest when you walked away.”

She felt him tremble against her and Jaskier tightened the hug before he pushed Eira a bit from him. Their gazes locked and Eira saw the tears that pricked behind his eyes. 

“I was a total jerk,” he murmured. “I missed you every second of every day that passed. It was self-torture,” he added dramatically. 

Eira laughed through her tears, suddenly relieved to have the dramatic and funny bard in her arms. 

“Kiss me,” she spoke with a smile. 

Jaskier’s eyes widened and his lips turned into a playful grin. 

“With pleasure, my lady,” he replied before his hands cradled her face. 

His thumbs wiped away the tears and the bard’s gaze flickered over her features. Eira couldn’t help her gaze travelling between his lips and eyes. 

“Don’t ever cry for me,” Jaskier whispered in a serious tone, “I won’t ever survive knowing you’re sad because of me.”

It was a promise she couldn’t make and Eira thought Jaskier knew that because the bard closed the distance between them. The touch of his lips must be what coming home must feel like. Eira never had a home to return too, but she was sure that this was the feeling ; safety and warmth. Relieve washed over her and hands circled around his neck while deepening the kiss. 

Her knees grew weak, but Eira knew this was normal. She read novels where people fell in love and this was one of the effects, apparently. Her lips tingled happily and she was soon out of breath when the elemental felt Jaskier’s passion grow. 

“Great, now I can’t sleep again,” Geralt’s voice made the pain jump away from each other. “And I lost my appetite.”

Eira bit her bottom lip, cheeks a bright red and locked eyes with the Witcher. He shook his head, yet there was a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. Both Jaskier and Eira glanced at each other with a playful grin before joining Geralt at the table. 

“What are we going to do about the Other?” Eira asked when Geralt had his first sip of warm wine. 

The witcher locked eyes with her and shook his head. 

“Nothing,” he spoke, startling Eira with his answer.


	40. On the road again

Chapter 38 - On the road

Eira’s POV

Geralt his reasoning made sense… Not going after the Other would keep Eira out of the line of fire. Still, Eira wasn’t sure it was the best idea the Witcher ever had. Yet, she didn’t speak up and just agreed. A part of her wanted to forget everything that happened in the past months. 

Jaskier’s hand came to rest on her knee and Eira turned to face him. He smiled and the elemental was able to nod slowly. 

“Then there’s another matter,” she said and turned her head to face Geralt. 

“Hmm?”

“Where will we go next?”

A faint smile crept onto his face. 

“We’ll see. We can leave tomorrow,” he glanced into the direction of the bard. “And you can join. If you behave and keep your fucking lute in that bag.”

Jaskier laughed dryly, saw Geralt was serious and then agreed. 

“I shall get some rest,” Eira stood up, felt Jaskier’s hand slide off her knee. A feeling that made her regret getting up. 

The bard was up in a second and pressed a kiss on her forehead. 

“Yell and scream if you’re in trouble,” he said and Eira grinned. 

“Sure,” she said and left the two men behind, not sure if she would need Jaskier’s help if she got in trouble. 

Yet, it seemed to dawn on her that maybe he liked to think that Eira would call for him if something went wrong. Not to defend her, but to be by her side. Something that made her warm inside while she climbed under the heavy blankets.   
Sleep came fast and Eira didn’t dream. It seemed like she closed her eyes for only a few seconds when Eira felt the bed move. 

“Morning,” Jaskier’s voice reached her ears and Eira turned to face him. 

She blinked a few times in confusion. 

“Morning?”

Her throat hurt and her voice sounded like scrap paper.

“How long did I sleep?”

Jaskier smiled and caressed her hair with his fingers. 

“Twelve hours,” he replied and Eira’s eyes widened in surprise. “Geralt asked to wake you up. Seems he wants to leave Kaer Mohren and is itchy to get on the road again. I checked on Bramble and she’s fine. I think she misses you.”

Eira kept staring at him, waited for the waterfall of words to stop before she sat up straight. She rubbed her eyes and nodded slowly while she swung her legs over the bed. 

“Well, we don’t want to keep Geralt waiting,” she muttered. “We all know how he gets…”

Jaskier laughed and jumped off the bed. 

“Yennefer put some clothes ready for you. I asked for pants and a shirt instead of some frivolous dress. Thought you preferred that for travelling.”

Eira smiled and nodded when she noticed the clothes on a chair. Underneath, a pair of heavy riding boots. 

“Although,” Jaskier circled his arms around her waist, pressed a longing kiss on her neck from behind. “I do love you in a frivolous dress.”

Eira took a deep breath in and closed her eyes when his fingers traveled from her waist to her ribcage. Playful and warm at the same time. His hands lingered there while Eira could feel his breath on the skin of her neck. The ragged breath that escaped her sounded tormented and relieved at the same time. 

A warm feeling came over her and she pressed her legs together to stop the sudden tingle that emerged between her thighs. Jaskier pulled his fingers away suddenly, a movement that made Eira snap her eyes open again and return to reality. 

“Sorry,” he murmured and rubbed his fingers through his hair. “I’ll let you get dressed. See you at the stables.”

With a few strides, the bard was out of the door, leaving Eira flustered and out of breath. Confused and with the tingling feeling all over her body. Especially on her ribcage, where his fingers had playfully lingered and caressed her through her robe. 

She wasn’t stupid, Eira was fully aware what couples in love normally do. It seemed that Jaskier was about to take the step, just like in the Inn months back after the Fear Demon, but again, he decided it was best to not move further. 

She turned to face her clothes and the mirror, couldn’t help but to look at herself. For the first time, Eira truly looked at her reflection. The silver, white locks on her head needed combing and a new braid because of sleeping, they were a mess. Blue, tired eyes gazed back at her and her now thin frame, looked unhealthy and malnourished. 

A sad sigh escaped her lips when Eira turned away from the mirror. No wonder Jaskier turned around and practically ran out of the room. And he hadn’t even seen the scars on her back that her vessel got during her life as a slave girl. They ran deep, leaving white, thin marks on her back. 

Eira quickly got dressed, put on the boots and forgot about her hair. Never looking into the mirror again when she ran outside and towards the stables. 

“Finally,” Geralt huffed and threw her a bag. “We’ve been waiting for two hours.”

Eira grinned while she caught the bag with a puff. And her smile only brightened when Jaskier brought Bramble her way. 

“Hey,” she rubbed the nose of the horse who nudged her in return. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Bramble made a happy sound, trampled with one of its legs and Eira adored that horse. 

“I need to say goodbye to Yen,” she spoke while glancing at Geralt. 

“She already left,” he said and started walking towards the gates of Kaer Mohren. “Told me to tell you to keep safe.”

Eira glanced at Jaskier who was struggling with one of the other horses. 

“Are you okay?”

Jaskier snapped his head into her direction, saw her raised brow and nodded quickly. 

“All is well,” he huffed when the bard finally got the horse under control. “Let’s go, shall we?”

Eira chuckled when he was able to get on the saddle after a few tries. 

“Horses don’t like me,” she heard him mutter while she jumped on Bramble. 

“You’ll be fine, Jaskier,” she said when he came to ride next to her. 

He offered her the most beautiful smile when he drove past the Elemental. His lute strapped on his back and a bit awkward on the horse, yet Jaskier did it without complaining and a smile plastered on his face. It was one of the things about him that made her heart speed up. His neverending enthusiasm and just being cheerful. 

She quickly gave Bramble the command to go a bit faster so Eira was next to the witcher. 

“Where are we going?”

Geralt glanced at her while steering Roach towards the left and upon a hill. 

“I heard about a monster in the first town to the East. Something that devours only women and nobody ever saw it. Leaves carcasses everywhere.”

Eira grinned. 

“Sounds exciting,” she said and locked eyes with him. 

Geralt reached out and patted her shoulder. 

“Glad to have you back, Eira,” he said calmly. 

“Happy to be back,” the elemental spoke and took his hand. “Thank you for staying by my side the whole time.”

Geralt shrugged. 

“It was the right thing to do,” he merely spoke before leaving her to ride next to Jaskier.


End file.
